Broken (but maybe you can fix me)
by volkova21
Summary: Fleur has a secret that she can't tell anyone, problem is, maybe someone already knows.
1. Chapter 1

Fleur was a broken woman. She knew it, and she felt like the entire world knew it too. She was broken from the war, from her marriage, and from her secrets. The biggest and worst one of which, she couldn't tell anyone. Being a Veela, she had one mate, where it broke her, however, was that her mate didn't want to be her mate. Her mate was one Hermione Jean Granger, fiancée to a Ronald Bilius Weasley, and her roommate.

So here she was, stood in her bedroom, bracing herself mentally for what the day would surprise her with. The last step of her morning routine, ensuring her mental faculties were well prepared for venturing out to enjoy a casual breakfast with her mate and best friend Hermione. She wouldn't allow her Veela heritage to ruin a perfectly good friendship (and more importantly, drive her further from her mate). However, as she stepped out of her bedroom, she realized she had not prepared herself well enough for the sight she witnessed this morning, Hermione stood there, wrapped in the arms of her fiancée, lips locked in as tight of an embrace as their arms- to which she could almost gag- the Veela within her rearing its ugly head out of jealousy, she took a deep breath to push it back down, clearing her throat to announce the presence of another.

Ron and Hermione quickly split apart, the latter at least having the decency to look embarrassed at being caught. "Oh, um, sorry, breakfast is ready, Ron just wanted to pop 'round to share the good news. Him and Harry both passed their auror training today. Was thinking maybe we could all have some drinks later to celebrate."

"Hermione looked at Fleur expectantly as the awkward silence filled the room, "Oh, oh! yeah I wasn't expecting you to ask permission, this is as much your place as it is mine."

"Still, I don't wish for you to feel put out, I know the break up hasn't been the easiest of things to deal with and of course Ron and Ginny will be there," Hermione paused, her finger tips brushing Ron's arm as she gave him a fond look, "so will Harry and Luna and Neville though," she added on quickly.

"Hermione, you know there is no bad blood between Bill and I, if you invite him over, there won't be any tension, at least on my part."

Hermione looked visibly relieved, "Oh good, because he seemed quite excited that his little brother would become an auror."

Fleur smiled at that and took a pastry from the counter, "if that is all, then I must be getting to work," she waited for a slight nod from Hermione and took her leave, her long blonde hair flowing behind her as she stepped out the door to their small apartment. She apparated to Gringott's with a small pop.

She appeared outside the doors to the large building, guarded heavily by goblins, she strolled past them, making her way to a small doorway off to the side of the grand entrance. Pushing the door open, she couldn't help the shiver that accompanied the passage from the ornate decorations in the public spaces to the spartan décor of the employee only areas. It was a short walk down the plain hallway to her office, or rather the group offices as all the curse breakers shared a communal space, each with their own desk to store their files and such. None of them really spent a large amount of time behind the desk other than for completing paperwork but rather spent most of their time out in the field, trying to solve the enchantments that were placed on rare objects or the likes.

"Mornin' Bill," she said, placing her small bag down on her desk. The redhead whose desk sat across the aisle from her, looked up from his file and smiled, "Good morning, Fleur."

"You'll be coming for drinks tonight oui?" she couldn't help but allow the tidbit of French to slide through, though she spoke mostly English (and without an accent at that) most of the time, she couldn't help but fall back on some of her older speaking habits when she was nervous.

"Of course, I wouldn't miss it for the world. It's not every day your baby bro gets to be an auror now is it? But I sense that's not the problem at hand. If you want to talk about it, I'm here Fleur, I know we aren't engaged anymore, but I really think we dodge a bullet with that one didn't we?" He winked at her as he said the last part, knowing the reason she called off the wedding.

"She doesn't know yet does she?"

"No, I could never tell her either, it wouldn't be right," Fleur stated wistfully, looking down at her paperwork to hide the frown that had appeared on her face.

"Leave it to you to be worried about what's proper instead of getting the girl. There's a bunch out there that would rather have their mate rather than saving a friendship." Bill turned back to his paperwork signaling he was done with the conversation as well.


	2. Chapter 2

Right, so, forgot to say this last chapter, they'll be short and sweet, mostly cause im writing at work in 2 hour blocks before i move to a new spot, so itll depend on how much i can get done (how much work i actually have to do) there could be as many as 4 updates in a night (or none, if im off or with really bad writers block.) not sure where exactly im going with this but... well get there together right? oh and i make no money and these aren't my characters, just borrowing them (and hoping for more fleurmione to show up)

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Fleur sighed as her hands rubbed her face, her eyes threatening to close. Today was a particularly boring day, she checked her watch one more time, willing the seconds to pass by until it was close enough that she could sneak out early without being caught.

"Merlin, Fleur!" Fleur jumped at the sudden voice intruding upon her thoughts. "You gonna spend all day checking your watch, may as well get outta here early!" Her boss, Patricia Rakepick called out across the floor, to which Fleur couldn't help but give a small smile and notice the teasing nature of her voice, she was normally a hard worker, always showing up early and staying late, but her mind wasn't able to focus today.

"You too, Bill! Enjoy the celebrations tonight!" Bill looked up, surprise evident across his face, but who was he to question his boss, he stood from his desk and disappeared quickly before she could change her mind, racing to leave with Fleur.

He walked silently next to her in the hallway, shooting her a questioning glance to which the blonde simply shrugged. Bill opened the door back to the main room of Gringott's before finally speaking. "Nervous?"

"A little," she confessed, and Bill reached over, taking her hand, he gave it a light squeeze in reassurance. The two of them had ended things on good terms, and while she knew she wouldn't be happy married to him, he was one of her best friends and she would always treasure him. She wasn't sure how he truly felt, that her mate was his brother's fiancée, but he had never commented on that fact directly. It wasn't like she could have chosen after all, such things under the control of fate.

They walked back to the apartment, in silence, Fleur needing to gain her strength for the night, a silent warning to be prepared for what was to come. Bill was more than happy to join her, in no rush to make it to the festivities that wouldn't have started yet as it was barely 4 pm.

Too soon, the walk had ended as they found themselves outside of Fleur's apartment, key in hand, ready to open the door, but the door swung open on its own, revealing an already tipsy Hermione. "I thought I heard someone out here!" she practically yelled, stepping out of the way to allow them entrance, her eyes glancing down to notice the still joined hands. "Heyyy I thought… didn't you two y'know… break up?" she whispered the last two words, her hand at the side of her mouth holding a small glass of a brown liquor, trying to shield the words from the others in the room.

Fleur stepped inside, nodding at Hermione and gazing around the room to see who else was there, it seemed to just be Ron, Luna and Neville gathered on the couches around the muggle contraption Hermione had called a TV.

Bill smiled and went ahead to take his place on the end of the couch, leaving just the chair open for Fleur, he'd already poured himself a drink, the bottle of Firewhiskey in front of him nearly empty. Hermione took her seat on Ron's lap, noting the fact all other seats were already taken. "Guess when Harry gets here, he'll get the floor!" she chirped happily, "serves him right for being late!"

"Late? It's barely gone five," Fleur couldn't help but question, but she didn't receive an answer as a tumbler was shoved roughly in her hands. Hermione picked up the remote to the TV and resumed the movie, explaining the rules, "Alright, so, you need to play catch up since we've had a head start. Go ahead and drain that." She stared expectantly at the two until they did as they were told.

"Great!" She clapped her hands, "now, every time that hat is on someone's head, we take a drink." She let out a small squeal, "Like that!" she pointed excitedly at the TV and took a drink, draining her glass. The others followed suit.

Three, or was it four? Maybe five? Glasses later Fleur heard a knock at the door, her world was swimming already, but she clumsily stood up to get it, hiccupping slightly at the movement. She stumbled her way to the door, cursing all that was good in the world that the door wouldn't hold still for this. It took her a couple tries, but she finally found the doorknob and opened it slowly, leaning onto the door and the frame for support. "Ooo eez eet?" She slurred, her French accent coming out thickly.

Harry chuckled at the answer, and at Fleur's drunken state, given she had already opened the door when she thought to ask who was there. "'arry!" she exclaimed, nearly toppling him over with a bear hug, "but w'ere eez Ginny?"

Harry was still laughing at Fleur's drunken greeting and patted her on the back lightly, hoping she would realize that she was still holding on to him and it had been long enough. "She already had plans for tonight."

Fleur looked at him confused, "but w'at eez more important zan seeing 'er boyfriend tonight?"

Harry looked down shyly, "well, for starters, her girlfriend."

"W'at?" That answer had taken Fleur by surprise and she quickly pulled Harry in conspiratorily, "Non, we will get you your girl back."

Harry couldn't help but blush at the words of the blonde who was currently holding him tightly, her breath smelling strongly of alcohol, "No, Fleur, really, you don't need to."

She pulled back ever so slightly, "Nonsense, we will fix zis. Zee is crazy to be out wiz someone else w'en zee could be wiz you."

Harry couldn't help but smile at how adamant his friend was that she would get them back together, but he had to break it to her, "Fleur, we were never together, it was just a façade."

"W'at? But why did you not tell me? Are we not friends?" She asked scandalized by this information.

"We are, I thought you knew."

"Knew w'at?"

"That both of us are, y'know…." Harry trailed off, his voice having lowered to a whisper.

"Both of you are w'hat?" Fleur probed, his actions lost on her in her drunken state.

Realizing this wasn't a conversation he wanted to have with a drunken Fleur, he cleared his throat, "erm, y'know what? Nevermind, Ginny won't be joining us tonight is all, so where's the drinks?"

Fleur smiled widely, and pulled Harry into the room with all the others, falling unceremoniously back into her seat. Harry looked around nervously, noting all the spots were full before pouring himself a drink and taking a spot on the floor.

The group continued to laugh and drink, enjoying the game until the movie ended. The group was thoroughly trashed, including Harry who had had by far less than the rest of the group. But it was Bill who suggested with a smirk they all play a game of Truth or Dare, and Fleur without considering the consequences, was more than eager to play.

Harry shot Bill, who had a playful glint in his eyes, a knowing look and the two started their silently communicated plan. If only Fleur had known at this point just how much trouble she would be in, but she was too drunk to realize what would happen.

Harry spoke up first, "Alright, I s'pose I'll start. 'Mione, truth or dare?"

"Mmmmm," she started off, leaning to the side slightly as she spoke, a long silence following as she took a long sip of her drink. "Truthhhhh."

Harry looked over at Bill, as though asking for silent permission, which was granted with a slight nod. "Alright then, no need to name names, but have you ever had a crush on a girl?"

"That's an easy one!" she couldn't help but exclaim and let out a hiccup after, swaying once again to the side. Fleur felt her heart clench in anticipation of the answer. It was really only a brief pause that felt like an eternity as she waited for the answer. "Duhhhhh," was all that came and Hermione had moved on, "Right, Bill, the truth, why did you and Fleur break up?"


	3. Chapter 3

Bill chuckled nervously, "Wow 'Mione, right for the jugular on that one huh?" His right hand nervously scratched the back of his neck and he took a long slow sip of his firewhiskey, hoping the alcohol would inebriate him further, "Easiest way to put it I guess, we realized we aren't right for each other." His eyes seeking out Fleur's, checking that she was still okay.

"That's a cop out, but fine, I'll get the truth from Fleur I s'pose," Hermione responded, baring glancing at Bill. "It's your turn now."

A devilish smirk spread across Bill's face, he knew he was treading dangerously into deep water with this but he couldn't care less right now. "Fleur," he stated all of a sudden very serious about the matter at hand, "Truth or dare."

Fleur's nerves were on edge, not knowing which of the two was safer to pick, all eyes were on her, and she quietly answered, "Truth."

"I've always wondered, back when we were together, why your parents always seemed so disappointed in our relationship."

Fleur closed her eyes, steadying herself for a minute before answering. She knew Bill was aware of the answer, but, after Hermione's question, she knew he just wanted her to say it out loud. "Because, you are not my mate and zey did not understand why I would be wiz you instead."

She downed the rest of her glass and clapped her hands together after placing her glass back down on the table. "Now, hoo iz next?" She looked to her left, seeing Luna and Neville, who looked at each other sheepishly before declaring it too late and leaving quickly, holding onto each other for support. "I tink zey are 'iding somezing. Well zen, zat leaves you, Ron."

"Dare," Ron said confidently, his arms wrapped around Hermione.

Fleur paused for a moment, trying to collect herself and regain control of the beast within her, rearing its head once again out of jealousy. She tried to come up with the most embarrassing task possible, even if it was quite a juvenile reaction. "Zing 'God Save ze Queen' naked on ze balcony."

The rest of the group couldn't help but laugh at Ron's misfortune and his currently bright shade of red.

"Merlin, I'm not one to forfeit, but that is brutal" he said as he made his way to the balcony, while the rest of the group continued laughing at him.

The rest of the game continued on as Ron stood out on the balcony nakedly wailing at the top of his lungs until his return. He wasted no time when he returned, "Harry, truth or dare."

"Truth, mate, I'm not doing anything that embarrassing, not enough booze in the world for that."

"Tell us who you've been seein'."

"Shit, maybe I should've gone with dare after all."

"Oh come on, it couldn't be that bad whoever it is."

Bill cleared his throat and moved over towards Harry, "Maybe I can help answer that one," he slurred, wrapping his arms around Harry and giving him a kiss on the cheek, much to the dismay of the rest of the group.

Ron couldn't hide his surprise, "Harry, mate, you can't be serious! You! With him!"

"Oi, watch what you say! I'm your brother!"

"God don't remind me! Last thing I wanted to know was Harry was shaggin' my brother!"

Harry looked over at Hermione as the Bill and Ron continued to drunkenly argue.

"So, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Right. Um, celebrity crush?"

"Present company excluded?" She questioned back.

Harry couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at that, "Depends, is the answer different?"

She sheepishly nodded her head yes. Harry made to answer, but found himself cut off by Ron and Bill noisily making their exit, "Sorry 'Mione, Harry, but we'll have to finish this another time, Bill and I have some things to discuss." He shot a look at Harry who had the good sense to look embarrassed about the situation. As they were walking out the door, Bill turned back to the group, an impish smile on his face and shot them a thumbs up.

Fleur gave Harry a questioning look, feeling like the two of them had been plotting something.

"Go on Hermione, including present company if you would, please."

Hermione and Fleur both found themselves looking down at their glasses, once again full of alcohol. "Fleur" It was barely a whisper, but as soon as she heard it, Fleur's head shot up, eyes wide.

"Moi?" The two of them stayed, looking at each other nervously, unsure of how to proceed.

"Right, well, I'll just go so you can figure this out..." Harry trailed off, talking to nobody in particular.

"You 'ave 'ad a crush on mee?" Fleur's voice going oddly high at the last syllables.

Hermione nodded her head slowly, nervously, silently questioning how this information would impact their friendship. She however, was not expecting what did happen. Fleur nervously whispered, "I 'ave 'ad a crush on you too."


	4. Chapter 4

Fleur awoke, the previous night a blur, she could only remember that they had confessed their feelings (or rather their once upon a time crushes), and yet somehow she was here, in her bed. As she gathered her wits about her, trying to remember how the rest of the night had gone, she slowly became aware that she wasn't actually alone, more when the body next to her rolled over, an arm outstretched, searching for something.

Panic began to set in as that arm wrapped tightly around her body and Fleur slowly turned her head towards the body that owned that arm, remembering that the only person left was Hermione. A secret hope in the back of her mind that Harry had returned, but logically knowing that he and Bill both had been trying to push her and Hermione together.

Seeing a bushy brown head of hair covering the majority of the face, she winced, knowing it was Hermione, knowing what was to come, she slowly slipped out of bed, trying not to wake the still sleeping girl. It was only made worse with the realization she was naked, leaving no doubt in her mind of what their activities had included, though the memories of which still eluded her. Flashes of kisses and ghosts of touches were all that she could remember.

She grabbed some sweats and made her way quietly to the bathroom, forming a plan in her mind, she was going to shower and sneak out for the day, needing coffee, and food, really she needed food, and hope that she wouldn't have to face Hermione any time soon.

She turned on the water and stepped under the warm spray of water, feeling it melt the stress away, as her mind pieced together the consequences of her actions, actions she couldn't really even remember doing. That was exactly how she wanted her first time with her mate to be, she couldn't help but think sarcastically.

Fleur did her best to not think about her bad decision, after all, Hermione still had Ron and she had to believe that their one drunken night would not magically solve anything (by solve, she meant remove him from the equation). After a few minutes, she turned off the water and dried off, plotting her escape once again.

She got dressed and ran the towel through her hair one last time as she made her escape, tossing the wet towel on the floor of her room as she passed the doorway, failing to notice that the brunette no longer occupied her bed.

Hermione instead, stood in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee as she leaned back against the counter. She watched as Fleur walked past, eyes glued to the floor. A shy voice sounded, "Fleur," the blonde jumped at the sound, "can we talk?"

The blonde paused in her steps, slowly turning towards the brunette, dressed in a long sleeved sweater, the sleeves covering her hands, her hair now straightened, flowing loosely down her back, and a comfy pair of jeans. She couldn't help but think that her mate looked gorgeous, and she winced at the thought, despite their actions of the previous night, she was not her mate (was, but that was beside the point).

"Can we just, pretend that didn't happen? We were both drunk and I don't want that to ruin our friendship. I do value you as a friend."

"Yeah, friends." She forced a smile at that last word, holding it until Hermione returned her smile. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

Hermione nodded, turning back to her coffee, she would broach the rest of what she wanted to say later, sensing now wasn't the time.

Fleur turned back to her original plan, leaving. She'd return later, once she felt it was safe, she couldn't spend much time with Hermione, at least not yet, it wasn't safe. Fleur would be bound by any and all orders given by her mate, knowingly or unknowingly, the difference being that she wasn't bound until they had... consummated their relationship. It normally wasn't an issue as for this step to have been taken, the mate would have (hopefully) the best interest at heart, granted there were also cases where the mate had taken advantage of their Veela partner to their detriment. She couldn't believe she'd gotten herself into this mess. She didn't think Hermione would do anything to deliberately hurt her, but they weren't together and left her unsure.

Her feet led her to a local cafe down the street from their apartment, one that she frequented quite often, their pastries, while not as good as the ones from home, were at least passable in her opinion, better than the rest of the local cafes. And she did enjoy their coffee. She sat at one of the outdoor tables and the waiter only gave her a look of knowing before bringing her her usual order.

"Morning Fleur, how's life treating you?"

"Good morning John, I wish it could be better."

The waiter gave her a somber smile, his bright blue eyes filled with a soft kindness, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her a light squeeze. "I'm here for you, love."

"Thank you, John." She placed her hand on his, enjoying his slight comfort. She had met him at work, but they had since become a strange sort of friends, recognizing him for their shared Veela blood, they had bonded over it, dancing around the topic. He hadn't met his mate yet, though he was still young, in his mid twenties and most wouldn't meet their mates til later. Fleur was considered lucky in a sense, having met hers, but unlucky that hers was engaged to another. John, however, had a loving boyfriend, one that understood their relationship would never be taken to the "next level".

Without a word, he turned and went back to work, leaving Fleur to her thoughts once again. She sipped her coffee in silence, knowing that he would listen when she was ready, a silent ally. When her cup was empty he stopped by once again.

"We slept together." That was it, that was all she said, all that could be said.

"I'm sorry, honey. She doesn't know does she?"

She could only shake her head in the negative and John took a seat across the table from her, placing his hand on hers, "You've gotta tell her, love, she needs to know. I've sat back and watched this for long enough. She wouldn't hurt you if she knew. But she's your mate and she needs to know before it's too late."

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Sorry if you were hoping for some *ahem* action, im writing this at work on work equipment soooo... yeah use your imaginations as to what happened. :)


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Sorry guys, I'm trying to write a story where Ron isn't a complete ass (as that seems a common trend) but that's kinda turning Hermione into one? Though that was a bit of my intent from the start. I really liked the idea of Fleur having to follow orders (so yes this will get dark, just not sure how dark yet) also must give credit where it's due, this little idea was sparked by reading Instincts by supesaiyan (go read it if you havent). I did change things about how it worked though but yeah... please dont hate Hermione too much though, shes just... indecisive here. oh and maybe T/W for dubious consent?

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It was late afternoon when Fleur had finally returned home, enjoying the relative ease of John's presence, while he rushed around taking care of his other tables, checking in on her momentarily, their conversation taking hours instead of minutes, jumping around, the real topics never being fully addressed, but he had managed to get his point across all the same.

She stood silently, outside the door to her apartment, hand on the doorknob, its cool metal solidifying her presence here before she finally pushed it open, ready to have "the talk". She didn't know why, but she felt somewhat disappointed not seeing Hermione seated on the couch in their main room that their apartment directly opened into.

She paused, leaning back into the door when she heard a voice call from down the hall "Fleur? Is that you?"

She smiled, Hermione must have been in her bedroom. "Yeah, it's just me."

Hermione walked out of her room, dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt, her bare feet padding along quietly on the carpet. "Is everything okay?" She asked quietly, her fingers nervously playing with the hem of her shirt.

"We need to talk," Fleur had practically had to force the words out, sounding foreign to her. Hermione looked somber at this revelation, a quiet "Of course" was all she said, and she followed Fleur's lead, taking a seat on the couch.

"About last night," she started, trailing off, looking at the floor. Hermione looked up at her, her brown eyes questioning, she picked up where Fleur had trailed off. "Veela's don't have crushes do they?" Her voice sounding louder in the silence between them than it really was.

A panicked, pained expression crossed Fleur's face, wincing slightly at the question, she shook her head 'no'.

A whispered "I thought so," was her only response, Hermione now looking at the ground instead. The silence resumed between them, seeming to stretch on for hours though it was probably only a few seconds.

It was once again Hermione who broke the silence, "So, what does that mean? I have my thoughts, but I need to hear you confirm them."

A pause, it was too soon, she couldn't say it, didn't want to say it, but she needed to, and so it was only a pause, a brief hesitation, she didn't know how to say it, how to put it delicately, wouldn't admit the power that Hermione now had over her.

"We... no," she shook her head and started over, "you are my mate." The last was quiet, barely a whisper, spoken to the floor rather than to Hermione directly.

Hermione nodded at this bit of information, she hadn't (had) expected that to be the answer, but didn't (did) want it to be true. She still had Ron, and things with him weren't bad, not completely, they had started to grow apart after the war sure, but that didn't mean she didn't love him, that didn't mean they couldn't make it work, and she felt she should try to make it work. "I need some time," was the only thing she could say, and she got up and left the room, leaving Fleur sitting there staring at the floor.

Fleur felt her heart breaking, she knew she was going to be rejected, but she honestly hadn't thought it would hurt as bad as it had. She sat there unable to move, and it was in that same position that Hermione found her hours later when she returned. Fleur finally felt like she could breathe again with her mate in the same room as her, she felt complete now.

Hermione walked over to her, wrapping her arms around Fleur, hugging her tightly from behind, a faint smell of alcohol on her breath as she spoke softly, "What does this mean for us?" she asked, nuzzling Fleur's cheek lightly, her breath warm and enticing, Fleur felt her senses come alight with hunger.

She turned ever so slightly towards the brunette, bringing them face to face, she placed her hand on Hermione's cheek, "It can mean whatever you want, my love." The term of endearment falling past her lips easily, unable to recall those words as Hermione leaned further into her caress.

Fleur knew she would be unable to deny her anything, it was too late, they'd already crossed the final step, she was subject to follow Hermione's orders, practically her slave until their binding ceremony, which Fleur doubted would ever happen. She knew it wouldn't take long for the other witch to figure it out, despite the limited information on Veelas that was out there. She cursed her luck once again, and the fates that had decided to play this cruel joke on her.

"Come to bed with me?" The request was simple enough, one she might have entertained had she not already been condemned to follow it, Hermione had asked innocently, placing her hand over Fleur's which was still occupying her cheek, she turned and kissed her palm. Fleur could only nod as she silently followed behind the brunette, who still had yet to let go of her hand.

She wasn't sure what this would mean for them, if it could mean they had a future or if she would just be there to sate the brunette on her lonelier of nights (those when Ron wasn't available to be her company). However, at this moment, she was not confident in her role.

And that was how Fleur found herself laying naked in Hermione's bed (this time instead of her own), the brunette wrapped up in her arms, a contented sigh against her skin, the brunette had fallen asleep quickly after their activities leaving Fleur to replay the night's events in her mind. Normally something that would have made her happy was for once, leaving her unsure of herself, and unsure of what Hermione thought of her.

True she hadn't told the younger witch of her... inclination to follow orders (or 'suggestions'), but she was unsure of what would happen if she did. Or rather, until she did. She wondered, offhandedly, if she already knew, somehow, as she had already known herself to be Fleur's mate.

But as life has a cruel way of continuing on, she figured she would find out soon enough, and soon a fitful sleep claimed her. Her dreams plagued with nightmares of a cruel brunette, using her, manipulating her and leaving her broken, even more than she was already, even more than the war had left her, than her relationship with Bill, but this arrangement with Hermione, that would finally be what did her in.

She was awoken early the next morning, a gentle caress from the other witch, "Good morning sleepyhead," she teased, running her fingers lightly up and down Fleur's body, eliciting a shiver from the blonde. A gentle kiss followed, tender, loving, completely unlike their others which had been hungry, needy, taking more than giving and Fleur felt her heart stir, an immense affection for the brunette growing, consuming her even more. That was until there was a knock at their door, and Hermione began to panic at their situation.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: Bill is awesome and he's like the gay best friend in this fic (like maybe literally) but no, he and Harry, despite previous chapters, are not actually together. And he's all for Fleurmione happening

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Hermione panicked, and Fleur found herself being pushed out of the bed "Go, go! Hurry!" Hermione had already jumped out of bed and was rushing out of the room. Fleur had no choice however, but to go as she had been commanded (though it wasn't a very specific one) and had walked rather quickly back to her room. It was only a matter of seconds until she saw a rushed Hermione running barefoot past her room, a string of expletives flowing.

Fleur shut the door to her room and leaned back against it, taking a deep breath, it was then that she realized she was still very much naked and reluctantly, she dressed herself and exited her sanctuary. She padded silently out into the living room, observing Ron seated at the kitchen table, a mug of coffee clutched between his hands, Hermione was nowhere to be found.

"Mornin' Fleur," he greeted cheerfully.

She let out a slight grunt in his direction, moving towards the coffee pot that sat steaming on its heater, filled to the brim with that holy liquid of the gods. She opened a cabinet door and grabbed a mug, setting it down roughly as she grabbed the decanter and poured a mug, deftly adding in cream and sugar.

"Mmmm," she hummed more to herself than anything, savoring that first sip of the bitter liquid. Ron let out a chuckle at her behavior before she greeted him politely, "Good morning, Ron. How was your Saturday?"

"Not too bad, this'll be my last weekend off for a good while, we'll have to move our Friday night drinks to Monday if they're to continue. Me an' Harry have the same days off. Kinda envious of you workin' at Gringott's, what with your weekends."

Fleur laughed, enjoying her luck at getting to have her weekends with Hermione uninterrupted. Just then the brunette walked into the kitchen, fully dressed and ready to go. She couldn't forget that Hermione and Ron had a standing tradition of a Sunday morning brunch down on the square. She felt a loss at the thought of Hermione leaving her, but it was something she knew she'd have to adjust to, and with a sad smile, she watched the two of them leave, hand in hand.

She sat at the kitchen table, sipping her coffee quietly, only her thoughts to keep her occupied on this lonely Sunday.

Fleur didn't know how long she'd sat there when a knock sounded at the door. Puzzled, she got up and answered it, smiling widely when she saw it was Bill standing there. He pushed his way inside the doorway, eager to start his questioning, "So? How'd it go?"

Fleur smiled and shook her head no, "You are ridiculous."

"I know, now tell me everything! I know you got some!"

"I can't deny it, but you know she is still with Ron."

Bill shrugged and waved the though away, "She'll come around, I have confidence in you. Besides," he put his hand up to cover his mouth and whispered, despite the fact that they were alone, "pretty sure he's still got a thing for Lavender, he'll get over it soon enough."

Noticing the sad state of the apartment, Bill clapped his hands together and exclaimed "How about lunch?" before pulling Fleur out of the apartment and down to the street below.

Bill's idea of lunch however, was actually a plate full of wings and a pitcher of beer. Fleur had thought eventually she'd no longer be surprised by his antics, but here was her friend and former fiancee, drinking straight from the pitcher, a pile of stripped bones in front of him. And she had yet to adjust to this complete juxtaposition of personality traits. Normally he was quite effeminate, but there were other times (like now) where she wondered exactly how it was they were friends. But now was not the time to question such things as she dug into her plate of wings, however she had elected to have a glass of wine instead of an entire pitcher of beer. Because really, did he need that much alcohol this earlier in the day? She'd rolled her eyes at him when he'd ordered it, acting like a frat boy (which she supposed he had been in a previous life).

Bill had picked the restaurant they were currently sat in for one reason and one reason only, because as he put it, the food was tolerable but the views were worth it. And Fleur, for her part had to agree as Bill nodded to the side, and Fleur's gaze followed. They had discovered after their relationship ended and secrets were no longer being kept out of fear, that they had a shockingly similar taste in women. Though, Fleur was in love with Hermione (something Bill had figured out shortly after their break up), Fleur had figured out that he too was in love with another. Despite his playful manner and uncaring attitude, their situations really were mirrored and so she felt a comfortable sort of ease with him.

It would have been easy together, they could have had a good life if things had turned out differently, but they hadn't and so, they spent their Sunday afternoon together gazing at the women that passed by.

"They have nothing on the French women," Fleur drawled after some time, a longing sigh followed, "Oh how I miss France."

Bill placed a hand on her shoulder, "I know, but despite all your complaints, you'd miss me too much," he teased, downing the last of his pitcher.

"You do have a point, I could never find anyone else to match your obnoxious personality in France, I'd have to return here just for you," she tried to state with a serious face but the two of them broke out laughing together, disturbing the nearby tables.

It didn't take long for Bill to be asking for another and getting another glass of wine for Fleur despite her protests. Their afternoon spent jovially flinging insults back and forth at each other, teasing each other and making a mockery of romantic relationships in general. Fleur realized she hadn't laughed so much in weeks as her cheeks began to ache. Finally, as it was nearing the evening she returned home, her depression and fears setting back in as she got closer to her shared apartment.

She opened the cool metal door to her apartment, wondering who all she would see. A panicked voice in the back of her head kept telling her that Ron and Hermione would be there, but she only found Hermione, sitting on the couch, waiting for her.

A solemn voice was all she heard, "I wondered when you would be home."

As she shut the door behind her, she thought she heard an "I missed you," but it could have been her imagination as she found herself soon at Hermione's side, beckoned with a dark "Come here."

It wasn't for the first time she found herself questioning what Hermione knew about Veelas and their mates. The rough touch of her mate so unlike what she had been used to before, it was no longer gentle and soft, soothing and tender, but now it was hard, there was a roughness, an anger bubbling just below the surface, and she felt like she was in trouble.

"You've been drinking." It was a statement, an observation, with no room to argue.

But argue she would try, "It was only just a little. Bill and I had lunch together."

Hermione's hand clenched around her lower jaw, pulling her closer as she leaned in, a quiet "I don't like that you drink as often as you do."

Fleur realized the irony, she was sure Hermione had also been drinking with Ron, and so far she'd spent more time drunk than she had sober this weekend. But she wasn't going to argue, realizing that it would only make her situation worse.

A rough kiss was pressed against her mouth, "You're mine." Another kiss, "don't forget that again." It was a growl, low and threatening and it sent a shiver up Fleur's spine. How bad had she messed up? This wasn't the Hermione she knew and she felt powerless against her, unable to stop the situation at hand.

She was pushed away by a firm hand and Hermione got up and left the room, leaving Fleur to cry silently from her spot against the couch, she'd found herself kneeling at Hermione's feet by the end of their exchange. Terror clenching at her heart, she shook as her tears fell.

When Hermione wandered back into the room, that was how she saw Fleur, and it was only a moment before her arms were wrapped securely around Fleur's shoulders, crouched on the floor with her, whispering sweet nothings into the blonde's ear, feather light kisses trailing down her jaw, she lightly kissed her on the lips, causing a new wave of tears to come cascading down.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, really, I was just jealous," she pulled the blonde closer against her, not daring to let go when the next phrase came pouring out, "I love you."


	7. Chapter 7

AN: So, I did mention, this would get dark. Honestly, the idea that I'm going with here is a manip of another that I'd read on AO3 by AmorahLeigh (I think, I can't access it at work.) called Hourglass Sins (SwanQueen) it kinda works. Basically Hermione is going to train Fleur and break her down til she loses herself and/or a decision is made, so yes, very dark and in a way BDSM will kinda be toyed with, but this is the first ive done and I won't be going super horribly into it because well, this is FFN and there doesnt seem to be much of that on here (I wonder why...). So for ratings sake, this is also the warning that there will definitely be dubious consent type themes because Fleur can't consent. Oh and please don't hate Ron, he's actually innocent in this and a good guy.

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Fleur could feel her heart stop as the words registered in her mind. She placed a needy kiss upon Hermione's lips, whispering "I love you too." The brunette stood and pulled her to her feet, a warm and caring embrace encircled her. She felt like she was home.

They continued on like this for the next week, without much change, Hermione ignoring her existence, save for a few small commands, 'get this', 'clean that', 'make dinner' or the likes, things she wouldn't have minded doing for Hermione even if she wasn't bound to follow her commands without question. Fleur began to become comfortable with her newfound existence, knowing that every night Hermione had come home to her and they'd fallen into bed together.

She hadn't yet questioned their future, savoring what she was able to finally have, though she did want more, and eventually it would grow to be a problem, but she would deal with that when the time came, and not a moment sooner.

She knew at some point, something was bound to change, but as long as the brunette slept next to her, it was a small victory she felt over Ron's relationship. Though, the wedding was coming closer, it was now only a couple months away and Hermione would be with another, and what that would mean for their relationship, Fleur did not know. She couldn't very well come along with them could she?

That night the gang was all meeting up for dinner and something was going to change. It was the first time they would all be together since 'that night' as Fleur had began to refer to it. Hermione had insisted she wear a casual suit, which wasn't completely unusual as the French woman tended to over dress (her work at the bank had a more formal dress code) and this would be after work. However, the brunette had decided to match her clothing, less formal of course- she wore a casual dress, with the blonde. It was subtle, but Fleur felt it was a little too close to the truth of the matter. They were meeting at the Leaky Cauldron like old times, and while it had a casual vibe, Hermione secretly liked to draw attention to herself, a guilty pleasure she would deny to her death.

And Fleur was secretly very tense as she walked in with the younger witch on her arm, drawing curious looks from the rest of the group. They made their way towards the back corner where Ron, Harry, Ginny and Bill were waiting for them. Hermione let go of her grip on Fleur's arm, whispering "Sit next to me" in Fleur's ear before she turned and smiled widely at the others. Fleur hid her blush and dutifully pulled up a seat between Hermione and Bill, who had no choice but to move his chair over to the right to make room for the blonde. She quickly shot an apologizing glance at the oldest Weasley who smiled knowingly at her.

The group was catching up on the past week when Fleur turned to Hermione, a glance passing quickly between the two. Hermione had slid her hand under the table onto Fleur's thigh, but she only smiled innocently at the blonde who had to hide her blush.

Ron still had not forgotten the cruel prank played on him last weekend when they were celebrating and had decided to bring it up, with the full group present, recounting the tale to Ginny who had managed to miss it. "And so then, these two," he's pointing at Bill and Harry who are looking around the bar innocently enough. "decide to try and tell me they're seeing each other! I nearly lost it at that! I mean, no offense Gin, but it was bad enough when Harry said he was seein' you."

"God, you're telling me! Not that he's a bad guy, he's just a guy," Ginny said laughing at Ron's words.

"Hey!" Harry playfully pushed Ginny, "I was the best fake boyfriend you ever had and you know it!"

"Yes you were, snookums," she teased him, leaning into his side, "But now I have the best girlfriend ever."

Fleur had barely been able to follow the conversation at hand, Hermione's hand tracing invisible patterns on her leg, distracting her, sending her senses into overdrive. The two might as well have been in their own world. Fleur had decided to try and focus all her attention on the meal in front of her, looking down at her plate, staring holes into it with as hard as she was looking at it. Hermione was attentive to the conversation, even if her attention was divided. She swirled the glass of wine in front of her in its glass before taking a sip. Ron had wrapped an oversized arm around her shoulders as he continued to banter with the rest of the group. Only Bill sat there watching their actions out of the corner of his eye.

Fleur was the only one out of the group to not have any alcohol, a glass of water sitting in front of her. She had been told not to drink anymore by Hermione, and as much as she wished she could join in the reverie, she was unable to. Bill paused his thoughts, turning full to Fleur, "You sure you don't want a butterbeer? I know how much you love those."

He didn't miss the look of regret flashing across her face and a glance towards Hermione. She opened her mouth to say no as Hermione nodded her head, a silent go ahead, it was subtle enough, but it was all she needed in order to say "Yes. I think I will have one after all."

Bill stood, excusing himself momentarily to go get a round of butterbeers for the table, missing the glance Fleur shot at Hermione, a look of relief still on her face. She mouthed a 'thank you', however, luck was not on her side, as Ron had looked over at them.

"Hey, 'Mione, you've been quiet tonight."

"Hm?" She looked up from her drink, "I suppose I have. It's just been a stressful week at work."

"Wanna talk about it?" he asked, nuzzling into her neck, placing a light kiss. Fleur felt Hermione get pulled further away from her, the light touch on her leg getting lighter and she felt a surge of jealousy as Bill returned with the drinks. He placed a mug in front of each of them and Fleur grabbed hers greedily, quickly downing it in a poor attempt to cover her rage.

Ron came home with them that night, and for the first time that week she had slept in her bed, alone, trying to block out the thoughts clouding her mind, images of what they were doing, sounds, echoes filling her ears, despite the dead silence that filled her room, she wrapped a pillow around her head, trying to cover her ears and cried herself to sleep that night.

He was still there in the morning when she left her room, wearing a pair of sweats, her hair laying messily around her shoulders. He was at the kitchen table, a shit eating grin plastered upon his face, he made no attempt to hide it. Hermione walked past them, taking the seat between the two of them, a tense silence between them. Her fingers had trailed across Fleur's shoulders as she passed and she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek as she sat down. Fleur grabbed a piece of toast and roughly spread some butter across it, willing the toast to also experience her pain.

"Jesus Fleur! Did tha' toast murder your family?" Ron asked, a concerned look across his face.

It was then that Fleur looked down at her actions, that piece now pressed into crumbs, torn into many smaller pieces. She shrugged before picking up one of the larger crumbs and attempting to eat it before it fell apart.

Hermione feigned surprise, "Oh look at the time! We've got to go or we'll be late for work."

"Shit, you're right," Ron stood from the table, shoving a piece of toast into his mouth and making for the door. With his back turned, Hermione quickly kissed Fleur before running out after him.


	8. Chapter 8

Ugh my naming convention has confused me, hopefully this is the right story? If it isnt somebody please let me know? I tried to figure it out but succeeded in confusing myself more. :( oh and again, I hope it makes sense, let me know if it doesnt.

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Ron began spending more and more time with Hermione and Fleur, he was mostly there for Hermione, as they had a wedding to plan, however, Hermione seemed to have developed other ideas, and whenever they were unable to agree on an item or idea, Fleur was pulled in as the 'tie-breaker' though, with a look from Hermione, she would agree with her.

This had worked pretty well at first, but eventually Ron got tired of it, questioning, "Why do you always have to side with her? Is that some unwritten rule?"

Fleur froze for a moment while Hermione continued to innocently peruse a section on table runners. "No, just your ideas are all rubbish. If you had a good one, I might agree with you," Fleur quickly lied, hoping it didn't start a fight.

She just hoped 9 PM would come fast enough when he would of course, take his leave after a not so subtle hint from Hermione about the late hour and having work in the morning, a ritual that had fast become a habit. As soon as he was out the door, Hermione would once again become hers, as though he never existed. Their shared secret, a dangerous game to be playing where in the end, there would be a loser, and Fleur didn't want to think who it would be (her, always her, she had already lost).

"You know, I'm starting to think, it might as well be you two gettin' married for all the good you've listened to me," Ron joked as he removed the stack of papers from his lap and stood from the couch. Fleur refused to meet Hermione's gaze after that, feeling as though their secret was on display for the world. When Ron returned from his brief journey to the kitchen, a can of beer in his hand, Hermione looked over at Fleur, "Would you get me a glass of water?" she asked, her tone not giving any room for negotiation.

Fleur nodded, standing from her chair and dutifully fetched a glass of ice water for her love, ignoring Ron's questioning look. Hermione had been getting bolder in her actions, or was it careless? As Ron had spent more and more time with them, she'd noticed he'd began to pick up on the increasing frequency of these 'requests' as Fleur had become less like a friend and more like a live-in maid for Hermione.

Hermione, she'd observed, seemed to enjoy having that power over Fleur, and though neither witch had commented on Fleur's willingness to obey, she was sure that the younger woman had figured out her weakness. Though, she was at least subconsciously grateful that Hermione was at least still treating her like a person in front of others, something that wasn't always the case.

Fleur took her time in the kitchen, her thoughts filling her mind as she heard a hushed discussion from the other room. She returned to the other room upon hearing the door slam shut and saw Ron had left early for the night. She took her place as she had been instructed to, kneeling at Hermione's feet whenever they were alone.

Secretly, she enjoyed it, being controlled like she was, her actions and her thoughts could fade away, she had been raised to always be in control, always be poised, proper, never to show any insecurity, but here, alone with Hermione, she had no control, no authority.

She laid her head in the brunette's lap, and Hermione began to absentmindedly run her fingers through the long silvery-blonde locks, neither willing to break the comfortable silence that had fallen over them.

Fleur closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and comfort that she felt around her mate. Hermione finally began to speak, and Fleur would take whatever she was offered, "He's noticed you do whatever I tell you."

Fleur's heart skipped a beat, "Here it comes, the point where I finally have to vocalize it," she thought. She sat up straight, eyes searching, never breaking her gaze from Hermione.

More silence, followed by a quiet "Why?" Hermione gently cupping her cheek, tenderly, so unlike many of their more recent interactions.

"I do not 'ave a choice," she murmured, her voice breaking as she spoke, heart clenching in her chest, witnessing the hurt that appeared on Hermione's face.

"But you..." a look of realization flashed across Hermione's face, "It's because we..." she trailed off and Fleur just nodded, refusing to meet her eyes.

"Have I," she paused, her voice cracking, "made you do anything you didn't want?" The last part was barely audible, a gasp of air so unlike the usual force behind her. Fleur could feel her heart breaking for the other witch, could feel all the pain that she felt and wished to spare it, hoping that it wouldn't hurt her more in the future, she shook her head no. "Never," she whispered as she wiped the slowly forming tears of the brunette away. She couldn't cause her any more pain, not like that.

The rest of the night was spent in each others' arms, gently worshiping the other, tenderly, as though come morning they would never see each other again. And Fleur, she felt truly loved for the first time in her life, that despite all their issues, all the challenges they had faced, things would get better. And at least for that night, Fleur did not regret her decision, the promise of a new day shining in her mate's eyes.

Too bad those promises wouldn't be remembered when the sun rose the next day. That morning quickly differentiated itself from the rest as Ron wasn't there to wake them up, a habit that had accidentally developed ever since the first night they'd been together. Fleur wondered if it was a result of their disagreement from the previous night, still unsure as to what exactly had passed.

She was also unsure as to whether or not she really wanted to know the truth when she found herself sitting at the kitchen table, Hermione in her lap, leaning up against her, leaving a light trail of kisses down her neck. They'd barely managed to escape the bedroom that morning and Fleur knew she was going to be late for work, but there was no way she was leaving without at least one cup of coffee. So, while the coffee was brewing (did it really have to take so long?) Hermione had occupied herself with trying to convince Fleur to return to bed with her.

She had never envied Hermione's job more in her life. The younger witch was self employed, running a mail-order potions supply from her private lab. She could work (or not) whenever she wanted. Fleur, meanwhile, had a job she had to get to, which as Hermione's hands ran further over her body, she was starting to think she could do without.

Hermione had, for her part, been much more aware of how easily her sentences could be taken as commands and done her best to refrain from commanding Fleur to do anything that morning, though her restraint was waning as the blonde continued to try and resist her. She kissed her once more before growling "You should leave now before I refuse to let you go."

The blonde pulled her closer, squeezing their bodies together, kissing her deeply before she was able to remember herself and pulled away from Hermione, "I'll be home as soon as I can and we can finish this then." She disappeared with a slight pop, leaving a disheveled Hermione standing in the kitchen, her coffee forgotten.

She walked into work that morning with more of a pep in her step than she had in a long time, and Bill ever the nosy friend that he was, sidled up to her. "I take it something went well?"

Fleur could only smile in his direction.

"I only ask seeing as how Ron stopped by last night to ask about you. He'd noticed how you're doing everything Hermione asks, and she'd refused to tell him anything. He's concerned about you, you know. But if everything is good, then there's no worries right? You can tell me if something does go wrong though, I'm here for you."

"Everything is great Bill. I appreciate the sentiment but we talked last night, and I think now that she knows, things will go better, I don't think she meant to force me to do anything."

His eyes narrowed at that last part, his voice dropping "So she did force you to do things?"

Fleur paled, "No, no nothing like that, I swear, I just hadn't told her that as my mate she could control me. But it was only ever small things, like getting her a drink or stuff. I would have done it anyways."

Bill looked at her intently, searching her face for any hint of a lie, but after a briefly uncomfortable second, he looked away, content that she had given him the truth, "Anyways, we've got a meeting to get to, new curse to break or something." He shrugged and walked off, Fleur trailing behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

Bill and Fleur were, of course, the last to the meeting, slipping in silently and remaining in the back, it seemed that everyone who was anyone had been invited to this meeting. Granted Fleur still found herself questioning what exactly this meeting was over. She, however, seemed to be failing miserably at keeping her confusion from showing, the gruff goblin up front mumbling over something about a recently discovered vault. (Were there really "new" vaults at Gringott's? Didn't the goblins keep track of this stuff?)

Bill had secretly been observing her actions during the course of the meeting and pulled her aside as soon as it ended.

"What's going on Fleur? This isn't like you."

"What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean, Swamprat mentions a new vault with some mystery curse and you should be all over it but you're standing there like it's a waste of time for you."

Fleur rolled her eyes, letting out a tired sigh, "To be honest, I do not know what is going on, Hermione and Ron had I guess you would call it a fight last night? Over what, I am not sure, anyways, we talked afterwards, and I confessed her newly gained ability. I'm just concerned, it is much more pressing than this forgotten safe," she waved her hand to the side as though she was brushing it off.

"Very true," he tipped his head in concession, "but don't forget that if you act too strangely, the others will notice and they'll all question. You just have Ron wondering right now, but he's spent more time around you both than anyone else has since then. We all worry about you, Fleur, don't forget that."

A slow smile spread across her face, "Thank you, Bill."

He flashed his winning grin at her, "Now about that vault, wanna go check it out?" There was only one thing Bill loved more than finding someone to occupy his bed, and that was a puzzle, she supposed the second one was kind of part of the first, a puzzle and sometimes quite a challenge to get the guy or girl in the end.

The journey to the vault was filled with Bill babbling on about his last conquest, or rather the huge failure that it had been, he'd spent the evening in the bar, attempting to chat up a young woman (unfortunately, he didn't know how young) until close to closing when she mentioned she had to get back before the Prefects discovered her absence and how it had sent him into a traumatic flashback of his schooldays when he'd been caught in bed with another young lad and he couldn't get out of the bar fast enough for his liking. Now he'd have to avoid that place for some time out of hopes she wasn't there again, and it had normally been such good luck for him (at least up until then). And he really couldn't shake the feeling of being some sort of child molester due to her age.

Fleur had resisted the urge to chide him over his indiscretions but was sure he had learned his lesson at least, with this particular event. They walked up to the vault, joining the group of other curse-breakers and goblins surrounding it, all questioning its appearance and what its contents could possibly be. There was no record of it anywhere and they had records going all the way back to 1049. In fact, it had only been found when one of the goblins was taking another client to visit their vault and the brakes on their cart had somehow failed, they had continued on down into the depths of the cave until they coasted to a stop, conveniently right here.

She got out and left Bill behind, sipping his coffee casually, one hand shoved in the pocket of his khakis with his tie loosely tied around his neck. Fleur, wearing a dress and heels was quite out of place in the cave, but she never cared about that, it was comfortable enough and she was able to do her job. She deftly moved through the crowd and began to examine the door, never mis-stepping in the loose gravel of the cave floor.

There were some runes carved into the wall around the door forming an archway of some sort, but she couldn't make out the words, it was older than anything she'd ever studied, perhaps it was a lost language, she pondered and secretly made a note to ask Hermione about them, knowing the other witch would be as intrigued as she was. She began to sketch what the runes looked like, believing them to be the key to opening this vault. Though she also doubted that this was a different path than the other goblins had taken, preferring to work alone and not talk of their work. Several of those gathered had attempted to open it with words, speaking a language that she did not understand, and when that had failed, they had attempted to blasting into it with magic. Which also failed.

Fleur had looked back at Bill several times throughout the day, wondering why he wasn't more involved than he was, but he just stood there casually sipping his coffee (did that never run out?) and would wave at her, a smile on his face before she finally stood from her spot and returned to his side.

"Let's get out of here, I'm done for the day."

The trip back to the top was quiet, silence spreading between the two as Fleur was lost in thought, her mind turning over the possibilities for the runes, she had little to go off of, but she hoped that some of them were just fancier versions of some later, simpler runes that she was familiar with. And Bill was more than happy to leave her in her thoughts, knowing she would obsess over the problem until she was able to solve it, and he was grateful for the slight return of the Fleur he recognized as his friend, realizing in his observations today, just how much she had changed recently. He didn't allow himself to think on the reason for this change, or the possibility of what it meant, preferring instead, to tell himself that Hermione wasn't like that and wouldn't do such a thing.

The last thing she said to him before she disappeared for the day, still consumed by her thoughts was "It's ancient magic, no doubt there." And then a small pop was heard as she disapparated right from the middle of Gringott's. He was left standing there alone and shook his head with a small chuckle, that was definitely 'his' Fleur.

When she apparated home, she was greeted by the sounds of voices floating out from the kitchen. Two voices in particular, leaving an uneasy feeling in her stomach, they seemed not to notice her appearance, deep in conversations themselves. Fleur found herself listening in, hoping to have some idea what they were discussing. She knew it was wrong, but she was intrigued.

"She's different 'Mione, I can't put my finger on it, but she's been different ever since we all got drunk that night. I don't know what I missed, but something happened. But it was just you an' Harry left so if it was one of you two, well, it had ta be one of you two dinnit?"

"Different how Ron? She's the same as she's always been so unless you can be more specific, I'm not sure what you would be referring to."

"She seems protective of you, or maybe, it might sound crazy, but maybe it's jealousy? Is she jealous? Is that the issue?"

"Really Ron? That idea is just ridiculous, why would she be jealous?"

"I dunno 'Mione, but really, something's changed."

Unable to stand listening anymore and wishing to announce her presence, Fleur opened the front door and slammed it shut behind her, walking into the apartment like nothing had happened, she kicked her heels off just inside the door before stooping to pick them up and making her way to her room. She noted just how quickly the apartment had grown quiet with her "arrival".

She was in her room, taking her time in getting changed out of her work clothes (after all, she had been down in the cave, crouched in dirt all day, it was perfectly reasonable to wish for a shower and some clean clothes) but really she wanted to be left alone for a period. She had to process what she had just overheard and gather herself together.

Fleur felt renewed after her shower, and when she entered the sitting room, she spied Hermione sitting there, a book in her hands, no signs of there having been anyone else there, but not taking chances, she crossed the room and took her seat in the recliner, earning a stern look from the brunette.

"Now, pet," she'd clicked her tongue, a look of warning flashing in her hazel eyes, and Fleur gulped, sinking to the floor at Hermione's feet. "That's better," she scolded her, placing her hand upon the blonde's head and beginning to stroke her lightly.

"I have a surprise for you," she said after a moment of silence had passed and Fleur looked up at her, eyes wide. Hermione pulled out her wand, and a small brown package began floating through the apartment with a quick _Accio._

Fleur hesitantly ripped through the paper, opening up the box with shaky hands. However, her heart bottomed out, tears stinging her eyes when she realized what the box contained. A thick black leather collar studded with clear gems was in her hand.

She looked up, cautiously meeting Hermione's eyes, tears still threatening to fall, panic filling her chest. Hermione reached out slowly, placing her hand upon Fleur's cheek, the action itself tender and loving, in stark contrast to how Fleur was sure she felt. "I want you to wear that now that you are mine. I put a spell on it so nobody can see it but us."

Fleur, her condition feeling more like a curse now than ever, slowly nodded, handing the collar over to Hermione, allowing the brunette to slip it around her neck and fasten it, the cool leather quickly warming to her skin. Her world crashed around her as Hermione began to kiss just below her ear and down her neck, seemingly oblivious to the repercussions of her actions.


	10. Chapter 10

AN: Thanks for the reviews! They make my day. Heading into the weekend now, so it might be a couple days, hopefully I'll get something posted tonight before my shift ends. Just an observation, for those wondering how 'dark' it may get, both my stories are a bit similar, in one Fleur has too much control over the situation at hand, this is an exploration of her lack of control. Furthermore, the more out of control Hermione will perceive her relationship with Ron spiralling, the more control she will try to achieve with Fleur. Hence the fights and such leading to a worsening of conditions with Fleur but when things are 'good' she returns some freedom or rights. So if it seems a little back and forth and crazy, it is, but there is a reason to it.

Also TW for uh sexual violence and such. Rating has been increased too.

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Fleur had found herself, once again, falling into bed with Hermione, her collar still tight around her neck, its weight unfamiliar. Once again their relationship had changed. Once again Fleur was certain she would lose. Once again she was broken.

Her love kissed and nipped and licked away, oblivious to the pain, ignoring the tears that Fleur refused to shed. She laid there, willing her body to stop responding, but how could it not? Not when her love was there, a familiar weight atop her, touching her in all the right ways, making her gasp and shudder, shiver beneath her fingers. She mentally cursed herself for having allowed this to happen, for being powerless to stop it.

She was brought to her climax as Hermione bit her inner thigh sharply, a sudden intake of breath from the blonde and a proud smirk from the brunette, her fingers tracing the curves of Fleur's body lightly.

"I want the world to know you belong to me," she said, a hint of fondness hidden below the layers of cold contempt sending a very mixed message to the blonde. She slowly climbed her way up the other woman's body, humming happily to herself as Fleur wrapped her arms around Hermione, an act of intimacy that she had been instructed to do.

Betrayal buzzed at her fingertips, hurt echoed throughout her core, and she schooled her features, perhaps out of a false pride, though there was nothing proud about her now. At least not in this situation. She longed for the days in which she had admired the other witch from afar, looking but never touching, never knowing what could happen between them, thinking that she was just out of reach, the promise of happiness just beyond. How foolish she had been.

She listened as her mate's breathing evened out, still curled up against her, now calmer, loving and tender, she clung to her like a koala, begging silently for some sort of protection. Fleur fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams to be plagued with nightmares.

She didn't feel any more rested when she woke, the bed cold, her partner no longer there, a wave of relief passing over her. She made her way to the shower to ready herself for work. Fleur paused for a moment, when she passed by the bathroom mirror and saw the black atrocity around her neck. Her fingers ran lightly over the gems emblazoned on it, a flash of sadness taking over her fingers before she steeled her nerves again. Skillfully, she slipped her fingers to the back of her neck, finding the buckle there and attempting to remove the barbaric device only to be shocked by a jolt of electricity as they touched the metal.

That was something that hadn't been mentioned. A morose sigh and she stepped into the shower, resigning herself to having to shower with it and as was becoming common-place, cursing her fortune.

The blonde slowly made her way to work, enjoying having some freedom at last, their morning ritual having been drastically altered since their changed relationship began. It hearkened back to old times, a faint memory of the past, of what had been and what would no longer be.

Fleur found herself walking to work, enjoying the slowed pace, no longer feeling a demand to escape her tiny apartment to avoid her troubles at work. Stopping to get coffee, she inhaled deeply, relishing in the smell of roasting beans and warm chocolate, something she hadn't realized she'd missed as much as she had. She had a good feeling about the day at hand, things seemed to be looking up for her.

She was determined to find satisfaction in everything she could, especially now that what she once would have thought was pleasant no longer was.

Her day had gone, surprisingly, quite well, though she had not made any progress on the mystery vault, the runes still not any clearer to her than they had been yesterday. She ran a hand through long blonde locks, pushing her hair back out of her face, "Merde!" she hissed under her breath, not used to being this stumped by a simple lock.

A light chuckle from opposite her desk caught her attention, she looked up, eyes flashing panic briefly until she saw the owner of the voice was none other than Hermione, a smile on her face. Fleur leaned back in her seat, "Hey," she greeted cheerfully, "what can I do for you?"

Hermione sat down in one of the empty chairs across from the blonde, placing a cup with a strange pinkish liquid down in front of her. Fleur took it, an eyebrow raised, examining it carefully.

"It's a smoothie." Hermione answered the unspoken question hanging between them. She cleared her throat, a moment of silence, gathering her thoughts before speaking again, "Sorry about this morning, I didn't want to wake you, you looked so peaceful there. I had to meet with Ron. Can you believe it," she continued on, not waiting for a reply, "I'm getting married in a month. I hadn't realized it was that close, but my dress appointment is today."

Fleur looked at her nervously, her emotions were now on high alert.

"I want you there with me," Hermione stated, it wasn't a request exactly, she knew Fleur couldn't argue.

The older witch nodded, and the two stood up, walking out of Gringott's arm in arm, light chatter between them, and Fleur could feel her heart begin to sing again as the old Hermione bubbled its way to the surface. She felt light, carefree, smiling at spending the day with her mate. She didn't realize at first that her collar had begun to hum lightly, a not altogether unpleasant feeling.


	11. Chapter 11

Hermione pulled Fleur into a dress shop after a short walk and Fleur found herself longing for their contact again though this was neither the time nor the place. She was here to watch her mate try on wedding dresses for her upcoming marriage with Ron. Fleur had to keep reminding herself of that fact as she sat there in one of the plush chairs watching as Hermione tried on dress after dress.

She was continuously dissatisfied with what she saw in the mirror, though Fleur thought she looked beautiful in all of them, however when she walked out in one, a white mermaid style, Fleur couldn't help the gasp as she laid her eyes on her love, tears forming in her eyes.

Hermione smiled at the reaction and, after a quick twirl in front of the mirrors, she looked over at the saleswoman and nodded, "I'll take it."

"Perfect! When do you need it by?"

"Three weeks."

"Not a problem, we will have it ready," the old woman smiled and walked off to do her paperwork as Hermione turned to get changed out of the dress and back into her clothes. Fleur smiled to nobody in particular, unable to remove the image of Hermione in a wedding dress, allowing the fantasy to play out that she was the one getting married not Ron.

When the woman returned and Hermione was once again dressed more casually, she was handed a slip of paper with the dress information on it. As they were about to leave, once again arm in arm, the saleswoman mentioned how cute they looked as a couple.

Fleur felt herself blush and Hermione suddenly pulled away, putting distance between the two of them, "Oh no, we're not together."

A confused looked passed over the woman's face as she quickly attempted to apologize for her mistake. The two quickly left the shop and walked down the street in silence. They'd made it quite a distance before Hermione quietly said, "I don't know if I'm ready for this."

"Ready for what, my love?" Fleur asked, trying to conceal the excitement in her voice as her hopes suddenly soared and she felt her heart pounding in her chest.

"To get married." It was barely above a whisper and Fleur wasn't sure she heard it correctly. She wasn't sure how to respond to it and simply grabbed Hermione's hand. They continued walking on in silence.

"What if he's not right for me?" Her voice had begun to crack as she asked the question.

Fleur pulled her into a hug, feeling an overwhelming need to comfort her love. She spoke, softly, carefully, thinking about how to help best, but it was not a situation she was familiar with. "I suppose that is why divorce exists. I wish I could provide some comfort, but this is something I am unfamiliar with. I guess the most important thing is that you love him, and if you care enough to try and make this work."

Hermione didn't pull away, instead melting further into Fleur's embrace, the blonde witch decided to apparate them back home.

Finally, safe inside their own home, Hermione stole a needy kiss from the blonde, who happily returned it. She guided them back towards the couch, refusing to end her embrace, but she refused to allow anything to any further.

"I think we need to talk," she whispered, not fully committed to her own words, but needing answers, needing to know where the younger witch stood.

Hermione pulled away, tears running down her cheeks, and nodded. She quickly wiped her cheeks and sat in silence, attempting to collect herself.

"You don't have to answer now, but it's something we need to figure out, your wedding is coming up and when it does, things will have to change for us. I need to know, what does that mean for us? Obviously, Ron will be expecting you to live together and you won't have an excuse not to. What kind of a future can we really have once you marry him? Will you continue to be unfaithful to him?"

Hermione sat there in silence after Fleur had finished speaking. "I don't know. I guess I never really thought about that," was the answer that came after a long pause.

Fleur nodded, but did not move from her spot, watching Hermione closely, expectantly, however, she was taken aback by the question that followed.

Hermione had turned to her and asked, quietly, cautiously, "What do you want?"

"Oh my sweet, there is no doubt about that, you are my mate."

"What does that mean for me? Is it a mistake to marry him?" Hermione had never before sounded so weak, so lost and confused.

"I cannot answer that for you, but I can tell you more about what it means to be my mate."

Hermione nodded, always eager to learn something new, she once again wiped away her tears.

Fleur sat back, a distant look in her eyes as she recounted information told to her in her youth, "The Veela falls in love only once, recognizing our mate on sight, it comes as natural as breathing. However, our mate may not recognize the same love, for them it can be a process, and sometimes, they never fall in love. While we will only love one, our mate is free to do as they please. Sometimes it is easier to be in a relationship with your mate and sometimes it is harder, not every mate is kind or caring. There are stories of Veela with unkind mates, forced to commit acts of violence against others. Being with a mate should be easy, but we are forced to do whatever our mate wants until the binding ceremony has occurred, and then we can regain our freedom, our individuality."

She paused for a moment before adding, "Just because you are my mate does not mean I am yours," sadness creeping in at the edges of her words, tears forming in her eyes.

Hermione pulled the older woman into her arms, holding her tightly. "So that means, you've known since the tournament?"

Fleur nodded, her words failing her.

"I need to tell Ron," she said with a new determination, "I'll never know if I made the right decision if we don't have a chance to explore us."

The brunette, without waiting for a reply, stood from her spot on the couch and disapparated from the apartment with a pop.

Fleur sat there for quite some time in a stunned silence, wondering what exactly it was the younger witch was doing. Eventually, another pop was heard, Hermione returning home, she approached Fleur, tears running down her face, "Let's go to bed," she whispered and Fleur felt her heart break for the other woman.


	12. Chapter 12

Fleur, for the first time in weeks, slept peacefully in her lover's arms, feeling safe, feeling loved, she dreamed happy dreams, excited for what the new day had in store. She awoke, stretching momentarily then rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she slowly extracted herself from Hermione's embrace, going to make breakfast for them both.

She smiled down at the brunette, still sound asleep, clutching at the covers, trying to hold on to what warmth remained. Fleur dressed quietly, smiling softly with the realization that over the past few weeks her belongings had slowly migrated their way to Hermione's room, only her clothes that she rarely wore were left in her room. In fact, Hermione's room was beginning to feel more like her own than hers did currently.

Fleur padded softly down the hallway towards the kitchen, planning what she was going to make for breakfast, she decided on making a couple of ham and cheese omelettes and began setting out ingredients when Hermione entered the room wearing only a robe, her frizzy brown hair going wild with sleep.

She yawned and wearily began going through the motions to make coffee before Fleur ushered her towards the kitchen table, "Sit, sit! I'll make the coffee." She quickly kissed her on the cheek before gently pushing her off towards the table.

Hermione had only been sitting for a second when there was a knock at the front door, which she got up to get, still not completely awake yet. Fleur, meanwhile, looked questioningly at the door, not expecting any visitors this morning. She could hear Hermione greet the newcomer and froze, "Hi Ron."

Fleur focused wholeheartedly on the omelettes in front of her, trying not to let her tension show, she carefully flipped the eggs, and upon hearing footsteps entering the kitchen, she asked "Do you want an omelette too Ron?"

"Nah, I already ate this mornin', thanks though," He began to shuffle through the cabinets, busying himself with pouring a coffee. Hermione then poured herself a cup and left the kitchen to go get ready for the day.

"So," Ron started awkwardly, leaning back against the counter, his coffee in hand, refusing to look at Fleur, "Hermione told me last night, you know, that she's your mate."

"Yeah." She didn't want to say much, she wasn't sure how much he knew, or rather what it was that Hermione had told him. There was a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Ron scratched the back of his head nervously before he spoke again, his voice soft this time, "I'm not mad, just so you know. It's not your fault."

Fleur couldn't control her surprise at that, she was secretly wondering what it was that Hermione had said to have him be as understanding about the situation.

"She told me that's why you've been acting differently of late, that your Veela blood is making you do what she says and you'll get sick if you don't."

Fleur had to suppress the urge to correct him, biting her tongue sharply, she ignored the taste of blood. Hermione had reentered the room, now dressed and ready for work. Fleur handed her a plate with a perfectly cooked omelette on it and was rewarded with a kiss on the cheek.

Fleur noticed Ron eyeing her carefully before he picked up his mug and sat at the table across from Hermione. They ate in relative silence, unsure of how to progress, though the tension between them seemed to go largely unnoticed by Hermione. The young witch, upon finishing her meal, placed her plate in the sink and gave Fleur a quick kiss.

"I'll be home late tonight, don't wait up for me." She bounded over to Ron, and took his hand as they both apparated.

Fleur, confused by their actions, stood in shock in the middle of the kitchen until she too realized she would be late for work if she didn't leave soon.

She apparated to work, a steaming mug of coffee in hand. Bill looked up from his desk and greeted her, a wide smile on his face. "Someone's almost late! Does that mean something happened?" He rounded the desk and made his way to her side, not waiting for an answer.

Fleur shook her head, "I cannot believe you would ask me that!"

He playfully slapped her arm, "Fleur, you know I have no filter. Now, spill!" The two of them began to make their way down to the bowels of Gringott's, getting back to work on solving the mystery vault. Fleur clutched a thick tome in her hands while Bill steered the cart rather ungracefully.

"I don't know, Bill, she picked out her wedding dress yesterday and then, after we talked, she said she needed to give us a chance and left. Ron stopped by this morning and said he knew what had happened, and he seemed okay with it. But I never pictured Ron as being okay with such things."

"Hmm," Bill responded contemplatively, "He's not normally calm, always had a quick temper, do you think she told him the truth?"

"He said he knew that she was my mate, but then he mentioned something about I'd get sick if I don't do what she wants, it was weird and I'm not sure where he got that from."

"That's not the truth though is it?"

Fleur decided not to answer that, instead flipping through the thick book, trying to find the right section as they arrived at their destination. Bill hopped out of the cart, grabbing his canvas messenger bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

They walked in amicable silence towards the giant door in front of them, still amazed at how it had gone unnoticed for so long. Fleur studied the designs etched into it, flipping through her book trying to find similar characters and their meaning hoping to discover its message while Bill pulled out a notebook and charcoal, making a quick etching of the door and its shapes.

He then pulled out his wand and began to test various spells, starting with the most basic through the more complex ones, many strange colors and shapes poured out of his wand, but none of them made a difference on the door.

Finally, he gave her a coy smile and walked up to the door, attempting to simply push it open. It didn't budge.

"Eh, well, it was worth a try." He chuckled and watched Fleur who was now sitting in the dirt, her book resting on the ground in front of her, she was hunched over it, making notes in her own notebook. Bill crouched down in front of her, "Got anything yet?"

"Hmm?" She paused in her work, looking up at him, "Oh no, nothing yet, well, maybe."

She flipped back through her work, "See this here, it's got this bit, but if you ignore that tail over there, it's almost the same. And throughout history, its been shown that characters get easier to write compared to previously, more simplified. Which could translate then that 'There are pixel lines in Portugal.' Yeah, I've got nothing."

Bill couldn't hold back a laugh at the translation Fleur gave, before she shoved him back into the dirt. When he finally recovered himself and picked himself up off the ground, he looked at Fleur "Let's get out of here, it's about dinner time."

"What? Already? Surely not." She checked the time, and packed up her stuff, following Bill back to the mine cart to leave, her mind still focused on the inscription.

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AN: that quote is courtesy of Google Translate. its a real quote, I will reveal later, but from what I found its attributed to Buddha so...if anyone wants to try and figure out what it was originally, have fun.


	13. Chapter 13

So, here's some fluff, kinda... ? Err... maybe not... enjoy though? and sorry for the delay... i had a surprise surgery thursday and had to spend the weekend recovering. but here's this.

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Fleur returned home, Bill following along behind. For a moment, Fleur remembered just how easy her relationship with the eldest Weasley had been, though she had no desire to be with him again, the two did make a good pair, falling into step seamlessly. They worked side by side in a comfortable silence, chopping vegetables, searing meat, working around each other and with the other as they made dinner the muggle way.

It was something they had discovered they shared during the course of their relationship, it had helped to calm the both of them, a sort of stress reliever, despite it being slower, they both preferred a muggle cooked meal to a magical one.

They had even taken a class together, both laughing at their lack of knowledge on the subject, unsure of what the utensils even were that the instructor had spoken of, and their mutual surprise when the whisk didn't actually remove anything.

The two had started off working in silence but then a teasing comment from Bill led to Fleur throwing some extra flour at him, and he threw a carrot at her, eventually causing quite the mess and their dinner to be mostly forgotten about. The two were laughing wholeheartedly at the other, amid a mess of food remnants when Hermione and Ron arrived home.

The tension between them was palpable, and while Ron found the scene entertaining, his brother wearing an apron printed with a female body in a bikini and covered in flour and some lettuce protruding from his hair while Fleur was drenched in what he hoped was water, her silk shirt clinging to her body, she had foregone the apron and also had white patches covering her black pants, she looked largely unscathed otherwise. Hermione, however, was not so entertained.

The two attempted to right themselves as quickly as possible, feeling the anger rolling off Hermione in waves, they had quickly become serious.

"The hell were you two thinking?!" she yelled, furious at the mess in the kitchen, "Clean this shit up!"

Fleur turned to Bill and whispered, "I think you should leave," before casting a cleaning charm to rectify their mess. Fear had crept into her words as she hoped Bill wouldn't argue with her request. Hermione had already turned to leave the room followed by Ron who had looked at them helplessly and shrugged, unsure of what had just happened.

Bill looked solemnly at his friend before nodding and disapparating with a pop, leaving Fleur alone in the kitchen. She took a moment to gather herself, deciding that the kitchen was once again spotless, all signs of their food fight sufficiently erased. Fleur cleaned herself finally before she exited the kitchen, and seeing Hermione sitting on the couch, went to her side, taking her spot upon the floor at the brunette's feet.

She was unsure of what Ron knew, but she did not want to test the temper of the younger witch. He looked at them curiously, watching the interaction between them, unable to hide his surprise when Hermione reached out and began to pet the blonde roughly, she whispered an apology, begging for forgiveness, she had not expected Hermione to be home until late after all.

A tense moment followed, where Fleur hid her eyes, watching the floor closely, tears threatening to fall. Hermione sat, a thoughtful look upon her face before it suddenly changed to anger and she grabbed a handful of long blonde locks, pulling back, forcing Fleur to look at her, a gasp of pain escaping her lips.

"We will discuss your punishment later," she growled before violently releasing the blonde, shoving her towards the floor. Fleur stayed there, cowering at Hermione's feet.

"The fuck is wrong with you, 'Mione?" Ron questioned angrily, unable to believe what he had just witnessed.

She chose to ignore him, instead commanding Fleur to go to her room and wait for her. Fleur quickly fled from the room, not wanting to anger her master any more, the collar around her neck feeling heavy and constricting, its presence felt more clearly now than it had ever been before.

Fleur didn't hear any of the ensuing discussion despite the silence surrounding her in her room as she sat curled up on her bed, waiting as instructed. She wasn't sure how much time had passed, only that it was very late when her door creaked open, allowing a tiny sliver of light to illuminate the darkness around her. She flinched as the light blinded her, recoiling as though she had been struck. She felt a weight on the bed next to her as the mattress sank.

Hermione spoke, her commands abrupt and unyielding. The blonde dropped to the floor, kneeling in front of her master. She wasn't prepared for what was to come, a physical punishment, she mentally checked out as her body obeyed the commands it was given. She felt her pants pool at her ankles as she was bent over the younger witch. The sounds of skin smacking skin echoed in the silence, 1... 2... 3... she counted.

The stinging continued, drops of water pricking her eyes, she refused to let them fall, she would not lose that bit of dignity. It was all she had left, her bond had ensured she had nothing else. The stinging eventually faded to a dull ache, the sensation lessening, she'd lost count long ago.

It was surreal, she was watching everything happening as though it wasn't her, floating above her body, she only returned when it stopped and she felt a pair of lips tenderly pressed against her back, "You're such a good girl," murmured against her skin.

A loving set of hands this time, so different from the last, slid down her body, touching every inch of skin, worshiping every curve, "I don't like punishing you, you know, you'd been such a good girl too, it was really only a matter of time." The voice that spoke was calm and detached, as though this situation was merely an inconvenience.

She was pulled into a kiss, those hands connected to strong arms, firm in their determination, pulling her closer as though even the thin layer of clothes between them was too much distance. It was loving, tender, filled with emotion, a promise of what they could be, the past already forgotten between them. That was what pushed her over the limit, tears came pouring out as sure hands found their way to the hem of her shirt, tugging at it, lifting it up. The kiss only broken to rid themselves of the distance between them. She felt loved, wanted and needed like never before as Hermione admired every bit of her skin, grazing it with her lips, tongue and teeth, nipping at her lightly and teasing her more sensitive areas.

Fleur could feel herself coming undone unlike she had ever done before, held closely by her lover, her mate, her master. She dared not dwell on how easily that last word flitted into her mind, how natural it felt. The term secretly exciting her as much as it terrified her, she cleared her mind of any thought, focusing on the here and now, and the amazing things the younger woman was doing to her.

Hermione's name ripped through her body in a scream as nimble fingers stroked her core, her body trembling beneath the brunette, satisfaction consuming her like never before.

The words escaped her mouth before she could even realize she'd said them, "I love you."

It wasn't the first time they'd been said, but so much had changed since the last time they were said. And this time she felt more emotionally stripped than before, the weight of the words sinking between the pair. She was answered with a tender kiss, a trail leading down her body, an answer being foregone in exchange for more pleasure. She pretended not to notice the lack of response, pretended it didn't wound her soul, ignored that the other witch had said them first last time. Things certainly had changed between them.


	14. Chapter 14

Y'all, my muse is tired of the pain I keep inflicting on these two. So, here's another update, I've got one coming for my other story too, but for longer bits of happier writing check out Safety Brief. They needed some happiness in their lives. In the mean time, I'm trying to wade through writers block and keep it moving without the mess that usually follows.

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Fleur was alone when she woke up, her own room looking unfamiliar to her after having spent so many nights in Hermione's. Sounds of pans clanking from the kitchen filled her small shared apartment. She quickly rose and wrapped a pastel pink, silk robe around her. She didn't bother with any lingerie, assuming it would just be her and Hermione in the apartment and the short fabric lightly brushed against the tops of her thighs. It left little to the imagination, but she really had nothing to hide from her mate.

She made her way to the kitchen, smelling the sweet, chocolate-y aroma of her favorite coffee brewing. Fleur froze momentarily upon entering the other room, seeing a shock of red hair and a blocky build she recognized as Ron. He quickly averted his eyes and began to focus intently on his coffee. Fleur turned to go back to her room when she was frozen in place by a decidedly feminine voice, "No, stay."

Fleur closed her eyes, rooted in her spot, before she turned back to the group and committing to her mistake, she readied her nerves and fully entered the room, making a beeline for the coffee pot. She was going to pretend this was her choice, not a command.

An awkward silence filled the room, Ron attempting his best to keep his eyes averted, a light blush coloring his cheeks. And a moment of realization passed, she never heard the door or the sounds of anyone apparating last night. Fleur couldn't hide the blush that happened as she finally understood, he had been present the night before and had most likely heard the events that had transpired between her and his fiancee (her mate).

She too averted her eyes, not envying the position he was in. At least she had no real choice in the matter, whatever Hermione wanted, she would undoubtedly have. The only one who didn't pick up on the uncomfortable situation they were in seemed to be Hermione.

Fleur had never expected the other woman to flaunt their relationship (if it could even be called that) so openly in front of her... honestly she wasn't sure what Ron was anymore. She couldn't help the pang of guilt that struck upon that realization. He had sat back and accepted whatever the younger witch would give him, without complaint. He hadn't been hostile to Fleur, in fact, he seemed rather understanding of the situation, not to mention concerned about her.

And yet, she felt she had betrayed him, engaging in an affair with his bride to be. The three of them sat around the table, both Ron and Fleur trying to avoid catching the other's eye while Hermione read the newspaper in front of her, absent-mindedly chewing on a croissant. Could she really be that oblivious to the awkward situation she had put them all in?

Finally Fleur had had enough, "May I be excused?" she asked pointedly, determined to not show any emotions.

She wasn't even given the dignity of a response, rather Hermione just waved her hand, not even looking up from her paper, but it was enough of a dismissal that Fleur was allowed to leave.

When she exited the room, she finally felt as though she could breath again, the tension suffocating her more than she had realized. She quietly slipped back into her room, hiding there until she heard the pop of at least one of them disapparating.

She dressed silently, trying not to make any noise, hoping they would forget about her presence. Fleur picked a suit, trying to use her clothes to regain some sense of privacy that had been ripped away from her, a sense of self she hadn't realized she'd been lacking until it had all been taken.

Not willing to take the risk of leaving her room and walking to work, she disapparated when she was ready to go. Appearing just outside Gringott's with a pop, she gathered her resolve, finding life was starting to take a toll on her. Merely existing was becoming a chore, and it wasn't one she enjoyed either.

She was greeted at the door, as was steadily becoming a ritual, by Bill, who offered her a cup of coffee, which she gladly took, clutching it between both of her hands as though its existence was the only thing she could be sure of.

"What's going on?" he questioned gently, placing a soft hand on her shoulder and slouching to meet her height. She was only a couple inches shorter than him, but in this state, she seemed much smaller than normal. Concern shone brightly in his eyes as he studied her appearance.

Fleur tried to shrug away from him, turning her head and hiding her eyes.

"Come on, you can talk to me, hun, I won't tell anyone." His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, and though he was pushing more than he had before, he made sure to control his tone. She was fragile, her mind still working through the events that had taken place the night before and this morning. She was ashamed, hurt that Hermione, her mate would treat her that way, confused over her enjoyment of that treatment, and ashamed that it hadn't been just the two of them. She wasn't sure how to deal with all her conflicting emotions at the moment and it was hurting her.

He pulled her into a gentle hug, and whispered "You don't have to say anything if you don't want to, but please just listen to me, it's okay to be feeling whatever you're feeling right now. Don't ignore your emotions to make others happy. We're all here for you if or when you want to talk, but until then, remember, your feelings are valid."

She nodded into Bill's shoulder, unable to trust herself to speak, tears threatening to fall at his act of kindness. It felt like forever since she had been treated kindly without any ulterior motive. She had even lost much of her trust in Hermione's actions which destroyed her. If she couldn't trust her mate, who could she trust?

Fleur stayed like that for a long moment, unable to let go, savoring true kindness, missing what she used to have with him, how gentle he was, always patient and understanding. How far she had fallen since then. She took a deep breath and finally pulled away.

"I don't know what's happened to her," she whispered.

Bill nodded in understanding, not pushing her for more information but ready to listen when she was ready to speak.

"It's like she's a different person since then. I can't even recognize her anymore, like she's controlling and power hungry and she's not my Hermione now." Large tears were now falling as she fell back into Bill's embrace, she'd said more than she ever intended to and she couldn't stand anyone seeing her as weak but she couldn't stop it now. All her emotions that had been tossed carelessly from one end to the other and back were bursting to escape. She'd started and they wouldn't stop.

Bill stood there, arms wrapped around her, rubbing her back lightly, trying to comfort the quiet, broken woman before him. He wasn't sure what all had happened, but he vowed to find out. He would be there and he would support his friend however he could, he'd never seen her as broken and damaged as she was now, even with everything they had been through together. He couldn't help but wonder what Hermione had done to her.


	15. Chapter 15

AN: Lets do the time warp! (sorry, couldn't resist) Time to start clarifying some things

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Fleur had once again adapted to the new standard, the new normal. Nobody saw her collar but her and Hermione, but that didn't seem to stop the younger woman from treating her as a possession. What had happened between them in private once upon a time had slowly began to happen in front of Ron. Then in front of Bill, and then Harry, and finally, now she was expected to be submissive to Hermione at all times.

Their friends gave her questioning looks every time she acted like this, but she had not been allowed to speak of what was happening. She had discovered that as Hermione's relationship worsened with Ron, theirs had also changed, Hermione demanding more from her each time. The blonde Veela was unsure of how much she had left to give at this point. The wedding was less than a week away.

Yes, despite Hermione's decision to 'give themselves a chance' she had not ended anything with Ron, she had merely told him of their unique situation the French woman had discovered in one of their few moments alone. The younger Weasley was much like his older brother, having tentatively reached a gentle hand towards her, wincing as she flinched and shied away from his contact, telling her that he would help her in any way he could. He told her that he thought the situation was unfair for both of them, that he didn't like how Hermione was acting. He wouldn't hold anything against her as it was against her choice, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Fleur had nearly broken down in tears, she didn't deserve such kindness, not from him. A moment of weakness had put her in this position, a moment that should never have happened and it wouldn't let her go.

Fleur Isabelle Delacour was a broken woman. She knew it, and now she knew the world knew it too. She was broken from the war, from her mate and from the weight of the secrets she was forced to keep. And today was the day her mate was getting married to someone that was not her. She was preparing for their wedding, her mate having requested her to be a bridesmaid. And who was she to refuse?

She looked at her reflection in the mirror, studying it closely, an echo of her former self. Her hollow eyes, once shining a bright blue, had lost so much life, she'd been petite before, but she'd lost so much weight, her ribs poking through, her creamy skin now sallow, a haunted look fell across her features. Her long, thin fingers tracing her protruding bones, only separated by a thin layer of paper-like skin. Her ethereal beauty now tarnished by life, the glow she once had now forgotten.

An argument down the hall broke her out of her reverie. Shouting and slamming doors startled her and she quickly rushed to the door, pulling it open and poking her head out. She was only able to catch the tail end of the argument, Ron storming off down the hall, his voice angrily shouting over his shoulder, "You're fucked 'Mione, get a therapist, I'm done!"

He headed towards the door, leaving in his tux, hand in his pocket. He reached the door and turned around momentarily, seeing Hermione standing in the hallway watching him, an angry glare fixed upon her features, he took off his ring and threw it back towards her before pushing his way out of the building.

Fleur had known he didn't like the situation he was in, but she'd never expected him to respond this way. She'd never seen the redhead so angry, though she knew he had a temper, all the Weasley children did. Despite how her mate had treated her and how she currently felt, she was unable to stop herself from rushing to Hermione's side, enveloping her in a tight hug as the brunette began to sob against her chest. She could only do her best to comfort the other woman as her wedding was cancelled only moments before it was to begin.

The Veela was unsure as to how long she stood there, comforting her mate. The march had began, and come to an end. The doors had opened, and someone had come searching. Voices, commotion, footsteps and shuffling. They were alone. In the dark. The hallways their silent witness as they stood, unmoving, the quiet echo of tears.

"He's right though," Fleur thought she'd imagined it, the soft voice of her mate, but then she spoke again, "I am fucked up."

She opened her mouth to disagree, but was stopped, "No, I know you've thought it, too. I've seen it in the way you look at me. I can't help it though, I don't know what's wrong with me. Ever since the war..." she trailed off.

"The war changed us all, my love," she whispered, nuzzling into her mate's hair, pulling her closer and placing a soft kiss upon her head.

"Not that much, not like this," it was soft, weak, dripping in pain as her voice cracked and a new wave of tears came.

"But not everyone has the same experiences."

"Harry died and yet he's still the same!" she tried to pull away but Fleur held onto her tightly, refusing to let her go.

"We all did the same things and yet I'm the most fucked up of all of us."

"My love, we were all damaged, not all of our scars are visible though. And not everything affects us the same. Our past makes us who we are and continues to shape our future." She spoke with a wisdom to her words that Hermione could not deny.

"There were so many times I'd wished for death," she rubbed absently at her arm as she spoke, a reminder of the past, the concealment charm she'd normally used to hide the scar fading, revealing the word mudblood etched into her skin.

"So many times, I'd hoped I could die so I'd never have to experience anything like it again. I thought they'd forgotten about me. At first, when she would hold me down, I'd tell myself they'd be there any minute. But as time passed and they didn't come, I'd lost my faith. I started to believe her, that they weren't coming, that I didn't matter to them, I was nothing more than a plaything to them. How could they leave me there if they cared?"

She paused for a moment there, and Fleur could only hold her closer, unwilling to let her go, unsure of what to say, but she wouldn't hurt Hermione any more, she was suffering enough.

"I thought, when they came, that I was imagining things, why would they come after so much time had passed? And I spent so much time looking over my shoulder, thinking she was there, that she'd found me again. Or that it was a dream and I'd wake up back in that dungeon, surrounded by bars, living in the dark and dirt, slowly starving to death. She nearly broke me then, at least that's what I thought at the time. But now, I think she did break me after all. I hurt those I want closest to me and I can't help it."

"It's not your fault my sweet. I will never go anywhere, you don't need to hurt any more," Fleur whispered, hoping her words would be calming.

"You don't hold it against me?"

"No," she said truthfully.

Hermione Granger was broken. Her mate was just as broken as she was. She was broken from the war, from her relationship, and the secrets she'd kept. And now she knew it.

* * *

AN: Can't help but think she kinda deserved that... but maybe its clearer now...?


	16. Chapter 16

AN: Sorry its been so long guys, spent two weeks in the hospital in and out of surgeries, good news, I'm okay and updates should resume sorta regularly, bad news, I'm no longer able to work so, I don't have that dedicated time like before, though I do have more freetime, I don't have internet at home and have to make it to somewhere I do have it.

Also, I *hate* with a passion to switch character POV, but I think, for this chapter it will be necessary, my muse seems to be set on a flashback type one to clarify what's going on with Hermione.

Also, also to the review I received, I just want to clarify some things. It was pointed out that there is no motivation for Hermione to act the way she does or to switch her behaviors. My reasoning for there not being any real motivation shown is that Fleur would not have this knowledge and though I hate first person, I am writing it similarly. The reader up until this chapter would not know what happened to Hermione as Fleur would not know. And regarding Fleur seeming one dimensional and flat or weak, well, the bond as I am attempting to write it, would prevent her from disobeying. She is at the whim of her "captor" in a sense and cannot break free for now. It is something both of them have to work through, she is essentially being forced to obsess over Hermione until the bond can be sealed and Hermione refuses to move forward in that. So... hopefully that clears some things up, as they "heal" they will become more complete, remember they are both 'broken' and I have chosen to depict that in how I write them. If it's not your cup of tea, well, you don't have to keep reading.

* * *

The pair had returned home, Hermione still a broken, crying, abandoned mess. Fleur, refusing to let go of the brunette, guided her home, the train of her wedding dress trailing along behind them. They walked, despite faster means of travel, neither felt that apparition was safe. Fleur unlocked the front door and gently pushed Hermione inside before she followed along, closing the door behind her and leaning against it. The younger witch stood there, in the entryway, her shoulders shaking, head hung low, a shell of her former self, and it pained Fleur to see her mate in such distress.

She knew that despite her strong feelings for the other, that they wouldn't be returned in the same, not so soon, not when Hermione had had Ron for so long, had believed her future to be with him, had planned her life for that path. Her world was shaken, turned upside down and destroyed on her wedding day. Though she should have seen it coming, he hadn't been too subtle in his hints, and in his concern for others. But she'd never considered that he'd take such drastic actions.

Fleur pulled Hermione into her room and the other woman fell onto her bed in a trembling, sobbing mess. The French woman shut the door and left the brunette to her self, unsure of what else to do to comfort her, she couldn't stand to see her love hurt, not like that, not when there was nothing she could do.

* * *

Hermione fell into a rough sleep, nightmares plaguing her dreams as they did every night. Though this night, this night they felt worse, more real than they had before. She was there again, inside Malfoy Manor, at least that's what her mind told her, but her instincts, they told her something else, something different. There was something wrong here, she just couldn't tell.

An insane cackle of a laugh echoed off the walls, bouncing off the stone floor she laid upon, reverberating in the shadows. Pierced only by the dripping of water, a hollow plopping sound, shrieks filled her ears, settling in her mind, eating it from the inside out, that laugh continued on, continued forward. She didn't have the energy to look up, to look around. The clicking of boots on stone, 'tap, tap, tap,' a grinding of a heel and grit.

She tried to squeeze her eyes tighter, they were already shut, blocking out the cold surroundings, but it didn't help, everything was all too familiar. A long, bony finger reaching out, stroking her cheek.

A soft, gravelly voice, barely above a whisper spoke, "Now, now, muddy". She winced as the hand gripped her cheek, keeping her from turning away, "I'm not here to hurt you," she continued on, now speaking in a whisper, a soft, silky tongue, trailing a path down her cheek.

Hermione tried to pull away but instead was pulled into the wiry form of Bellatrix Lestrange, her captor. She knew what was coming next, she knew what today was, the insane woman alternated between types of torture, showing the brunette her twisted form of 'love' when she wasn't busy demeaning her, treating her as less than dirt. She'd been stripped of her dignity when they took her clothes, they'd made sure of that, torturing her until she'd passed out, unable to withstand any more. She'd awoken naked and shivering in the dark dungeon of a basement. Her peace hadn't lasted long as pain began radiating out, spreading across her body. Scars adorned her pale skin, rips and tears in her flesh seeped blood and oozed pus.

She'd bled then, when they took her innocence. But she didn't any more. They'd done so much, Bellatrix had done it. They'd ordered it, but she'd been the one to do it all. Now, it was nothing new, she simply forced her eyes shut as the other woman worked her way down her body, taking what wasn't hers to take. She'd try to think of happier times, back when she was in school, when things were safe, when it was all just a game, stories of the past meant to keep kids behaving. They were just kids, running around with their wands, just sticks really, and magic, like muggle kids did with their wooden swords and imagination, ready to save the world but not really expecting the world to need saving.

If only someone would save her. Tears ran down her face as her body reacted unbidden, she'd tried to fight it, tried not to get off, but she couldn't stop it for long. She'd refused to give into that pleasure, to give that pleasure to her captor, but she didn't stop, she wouldn't stop until she'd gotten what she came for.

"There, there muddy, that wasn't so bad now was it?" she asked, a false tenderness behind her words as she held her fingers to Hermione's mouth, the teenage witch having learned what she wanted, knowing that it would be her only nourishment for the day, licked the juices off the older woman's hand. Bellatrix laughed her cackle of a laugh, "Good girl," she chided before taking her leave.

Heels clicking faded into knives piercing, cold metal melding with warm blood, running along her skin, ripping, tearing, slicing it open, she screamed, unable to pull away, held in place by chains. She still refused to talk, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could last. Bellatrix, standing over her, wielding a knife, she carved the word 'mudblood' into her skin, drawing fresh tears from tired brown eyes. Dark shadows danced against the walls, demons reminding her of what the woman was capable of, glowing red eyes darting forward, reminding her she was caught.

They haunted her, plaguing her dreams, her thoughts, always present, always there watching, laughing at her, her pitiful form, laying there, wishing for more, begging for an end to it all. But she'd refused to give in, refused to break, she'd rather die, or so she thought.

Then she'd been held by those same chains, tighter this time, they'd stood her up against the wall, her shaky legs weak under her, trying to support but having a hard time finding purchase. She was just a skeleton, covered in dirt and grime, forced to lay in her own filth, under nourished for so long, her joints poked through, sharp against her skin, threatening to emerge, stretching sallow skin.

Her head hung low, dirty brown curls, knotted and tangled covering her eyes, she didn't have the strength, the energy to care about meeting their gaze, she'd long ago lost that strength, the desire, the defiance. It had left her weak and covered in more scars than she could count. Defiance, she had decided, was better left for those with a plan, and that was not her.

Whips cracked at her skin, stinging as they sliced through, drops of blood trailing a river down her legs. They pulled the chains tighter, stretching her further, until she could take no more.

She screamed once more in pain, and it stopped. It was over.

The chains vanished, releasing her from their hold, Bellatrix moved to her side, a goblet of cool water in hand as she soothed the broken woman in front of her, showing her kindness, real kindness. Hermione was instructed to drink slowly, it had been so long, one of the other figures was sent to get her some bread crusts. She needed to start slow, too much would shock her system.

A cloak was wrapped around her shoulders. And Hermione finally began to question what it was she had said, the pain had been blinding, but she didn't remember saying anything of real importance. Nothing worth this, surely.

She'd been comforted Bellatrix, shown how to live again, how to love, before she'd been rescued, but she wasn't sure it was what she wanted. She didn't know how to live without her at first. It had been rough, but Ron had been there and she'd began to picture a future with him, his rough sort of comfort slightly reminiscent of Bella. He'd tried to be gentle, really, but it wasn't his fault that his rough calloused hands were often firmer than needed, he'd thought it reassuring, a way of keeping her grounded, which she'd needed at first.

Bella had been her first relationship though, she wasn't sure how to actually act, she knew, deep down, it wasn't right, that it wasn't how to behave, but it was all she knew. She had felt the older woman's rage too many times as things went wrong, and her love and adoration when things went right. She wasn't sure how it really began, but she did know how it ended.

Hermione had been changed, molded, shaped and consumed by the darkness in more ways than she knew. It was reaching out, taking control as she began to conform, her will to survive winning. She couldn't push it back as she had before.

Without realizing it, she had been beaten, trained by a madwoman, and she believed she enjoyed it, she believed it was real, it was loving and safe, she knew the only one to show her affection was Bella, her sweet, gentle, loving Bella.

A pang of sadness, of guilt, crossed as she remembered the other woman, longing stretching out, grasping, reaching for the woman that wasn't there, that would never be there again, and she curled up into herself further, a shiver running down her spine.

Her nightmares had become reality, her fears became her desires and she was left wondering what was true. She had thought she was fine, she had thought she could handle it on her own, that she was strong enough now, Bella was gone, she'd been killed in the war.

Hermione had survived however, it proved she was stronger, she wasn't being forced anymore, the darkness wasn't surrounding her and she'd moved on. She'd never act like that, or so she'd thought, until she was presented with an opportunity, until she was given absolute power over her much as Bella had had. It wasn't until then, when she began to act as her captor had, that she realized it was still there. It had never disappeared, just tucked itself away, but it had been there all along. The darkness had been there, her only friend when everyone else abandoned her, she couldn't live without it, there was no way.

She needed it now, she craved it, secretly enjoying the power she held over another, it was calming, familiar, reminiscent of her past and she had trained Fleur in much the same ways, though with less blood, less pain, it was easier though. The blonde followed her every command. She'd told herself Fleur enjoyed it, why wouldn't she? Hermione had after all come to enjoy it with time and she'd had much worse.

She'd do better though, she resolved, realizing that something was wrong, some demons she'd never faced. They still followed her, winding silently through her life, slipping between shadows, reaching out at her darkest moments. They'd pull her in and hold her tight. Maybe it was time to get some help after all.


	17. Chapter 17

Right, so, to the reviews, (sorry if this ends up getting long) I wasn't trying to be rude in my response, and I apologize if it came off that way, but I type the way I talk, which sometimes gets lost in translation because there isn't a voice to the words then. However, I can only explain why things have gone the way they have, I agree, the criticisms are valid, and I'm not trying to invalidate them in any way. I realize this is a very bad "uneducated" look into the BDSM subculture, but that is because this is NOT a BDSM relationship, I never claimed it to be either, merely stated I would take certain elements from it because, let's face it, domination and submission can be a part of that type of relationship, and that is a key factor here so there would be overlap, but it is not meant to be a portrayal of a consensual BDSM relationship.

Also, I'm not asking anyone to feel sorry for Hermione, in fact, don't. But that is the reasoning for her behaviors or, how she has justified it to herself. This is meant to be a dive into an unhealthy abusive relationship because to me, it's really hard to have it be a healthy relationship when one has power over the other in such an obvious manner, being the premise that Fleur has to obey any and all orders given by Hermione. From the start they've been on a very uneven footing, and power imbalances to that level can manifest themselves into abusive relationships very easily.

Speaking of abusive relationships, the back and forth portrayal of 'nice' and 'abusive' Hermione is, albeit a very sped up, depiction of the cycle of abuse, three phases (for those who may not know) are the honeymoon phase, where everything seems perfect, then there is a combustion where the abuse takes place followed by an apologetic stage where the abuser apologizes, promises they'll never do it again. Again, I've done my best to depict it accurately, but sped up. Justifications of the abuse are varied, and normally will fall apart under scrutiny of any sort.

So, if this bothers you, please by all means, stop reading, but this has also been a sort of therapy for me. I started this off as just an idea I'd borrowed and wanted to expand upon, but as writers, we draw from our own experiences. And, aside from the magic and such, this was very similar to a relationship I was in. I'm not asking for pity or anything of that matter, just simply an understanding in the logic used. I was cut off from everyone, including family, with work being my only outside contact aside from those they chose, she lived with family and when she went to work, if I was not at work, I was to stay in her room, locked away. Expected to follow whatever she'd tell me to do, including being raped. I lost myself and felt I had no escape (much as I've done here with Fleur, being held by "love", feeling as though there was no alternative to the situation) I've made Fleur out to be as powerless as I'd felt. My abuser's reasoning? It wasn't abuse, she didn't see it as such, she'd never do anything and couldn't believe I'd even think it abuse, she'd been abused herself and knew what that felt like (physically, though, not emotionally) she'd stopped when I'd say no (forgetting that within a matter of seconds she'd resume), she didn't cut me off from anyone, insisting family was important and I'd need a system of support, however there was a rule about not being on the phone around each other and she wouldn't let me go home. She insisted she wasn't abusive, but would threaten to commit suicide or physically harm me if I tried to leave. I think the best line was "you wouldn't leave a disable person would you?" when a back injury flared up and she was suddenly paralyzed from the waist down. That is, by definition, emotional abuse.

And, about Hermione being the brightest witch, I always took that as intelligence in school, that she is book smart rather than street smart, and book smart doesn't always equate to realizing issues within oneself, with flaws in how they cope with stress, or handle problems. Rather, some of the smartest people I know can't handle emotional problems or realize when their actions are unhealthy and refuse to seek help because it's not a problem to them.

Anyways, if you're still with me, thanks for reading, I didn't intend it to be so long. I'll hopefully finish this soon.

* * *

Ron had practically disappeared from their lives, keeping distance from his once fiancee, he had tried to maintain contact with Fleur, but that had proven difficult. He and Bill had spoken to her at work, and while she wanted to leave, the blonde had been unable to separate herself from Hermione.

She'd pushed her into therapy, and many nights the brunette had come home, reduced to tears, and fallen into the arms of the French witch. She had only slightly improved in her treatment of Fleur, instead becoming more dependent upon her, leaving the woman feeling trapped in her position, she couldn't leave her love without any sort of support. Ron was unwilling to help and Harry didn't know the extent of the pain inflicted upon them all. Hermione refused to open up to anyone in her life, preferring to deal with the pain on her own and in therapy.

Months passed, and the brunette slowly began to heal, returning once more to resemble her pre-war self, smiles appeared across her face more often and her control of Fleur began to ease finally, but things were still far from perfect. Though Fleur felt far less suffocated than she did before, their relationship was to remain an uneven power balance.

Fleur had returned to work, continuing to focus on solving the puzzle she had been handed. Feeling at a loss, she stood solemnly in front of the large door. She slowly reached out, placing a long, thin hand against the cool wood, feeling the porous substance that refused to give way.

She refused to give up on the mystery, but she was, by this point, at a loss as to what she could try. Everyone else had given up long before her, and so she was alone in the large chamber. The runes along the doorway began to glow, a faint yellow light filling the room, captivating Fleur as she stood there, speechless.

The door before her melted away, revealing an ornate cavern, beautifully carved statues adorned the pathway leading to a large fountain ahead. A silvery, shining liquid contained within the two level fountain. Fleur was drawn towards it, unsure of why the door opened, but even more intrigued than before.

They had thought gold or treasure would be contained within, but there was none, just this simple fountain, and she wondered why it had been sealed up for so long.

A voice filled her head, it was neither male nor female, it just existed, calm and serene, she no longer felt alone, bringing the first bit of peace she'd had in a long time with its presence.

 _This water will free you from your curse should you accept it. Love cannot be controlled, cannot be demanded, only willingly given. The Veela's greatest gift is also it's greatest curse. Drink and be free,_ _child._

Fleur gasped as she realized this fountain was the one hidden away by the elders, the one that had faded into legend. Stories had told of its existence and how those who had chosen to drink from it were exiled by her people out of fear they would disappear from existence as more and more chose to drink from it. Created to save those who were rejected by their mate from certain death, the water within had become something of a threat to her kind's way of life. But she had always believed it to be just a story, there had been no proof of it's existence.

She could once again be free to live her life, and as that realization crossed her mind, tears began to form in her eyes. Doubt began to plague her mind, it was unheard of for a Veela to refuse their love, to reject their gift (curse). She was scared to leave, to find out what would happen, for Hermione was just as dependent upon her as she was upon Hermione. Could things really go back to how they were before?

Fleur stood there, paralyzed in indecision, until finally, she walked towards the fountain, barely faster than a crawl. She kneeled before it, her hands resting upon the cold marble. One last chance to turn around.

She stopped, waiting, before she reached forward, dipping one hand into the water. It felt like ice, burning her skin, she hissed in pain, pulling her hand back out, gripping her wrist as teardrops pricked her eyes, this time for a new reason.

This time, she didn't hesitate, lowering her face to the liquid, it touching her lips, she began to drink. Tears sprang forward, she felt her soul being ripped to shreds, a scream threatening to burst forth. Pain searing her body, she shook, wishing it all would end. But there would be no reprieve. She collapsed as everything went dark.

She awoke in an unfamiliar place, to her side sat Bill, hunched over her body, head in his hands, murmured words escaping his lips.

"What happened?"

"I was hoping you could tell me," he reached out, brushing back a strand of her blonde hair, "I found you in that room, you were already unconcious. I don't even know how you got that damn door open."

"I don't know how, either. I just touched it and it opened." She chose not to tell him the rest, not wanting to worry him more (or rather to answer questions).

With no issues being found, she was soon released from St. Mungo's and sent home. She didn't plan to stay home for long, feeling lighter than she'd felt in such a long time, she packed her stuff and without a word, left, determined to live her life now that she could.

She'd always wanted to backpack across Europe, something she'd been unable to do previously. And that was what she was going to do now. She'd lost too much time, been held back for far too long. That was how she found herself wandering across the Swiss Alps, her only possession a backpack that she'd magically enlarged to hold everything she had.

She'd made her way to the top of the tallest mountain she saw, its snow covered peak blending in with the clouds. There were no signs of life up here, even the trees had stopped growing long ago. She sat down on a rock, the cold snow soaking into her pants. Fleur dug into her backpack, removing the collar she'd once been commanded to wear, a sign of ownership, of a loss of free will.

She looked at it, remembering the pain it had come to symbolize, refusing to shed another tear over that situation, she threw it away, as far down the mountain as she could. She'd leave that dark time in her life here, where it couldn't harm her anymore. Without even waiting for it to hit the ground, she apparated away.

Italy would be her next destination.

* * *

That's all folks. :) Thanks for sticking with me on this long ride. Btw, the inscription: Even death is not to be feared by one who has lived wisely.

Oh, and the title: personally, I think it's stupid to rely on someone to "fix" you, you've got to do it yourself, we're all broken in one way or another and hoping someone can do it for you may cause more problems than it's worth.


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